To Weave a Poem
by STupIdWiNsAGaIn
Summary: Her plans of suicide, her thoughts of guilt have all led to this one moment. It's when he holds the lighter in his hand that she has to decide... OCXIzaya.
1. Chapter 1

_I can't understand it_, I think to myself as I look at the scenery around me. I'm sitting calmly on top of my apartment building, with a journal in my lap and a pen in my hand. My dark hair sways in the wind, my legs hanging over the side of the building like they always do when I'm thinking. I can't think of what to write. Usually, I'm so avid at writing that I can just look at a pen and know what to fill the paper beside it with, but today it seems to have gone from my mind, and everything that I would have written down in my journal I can't think of at all. Why?

With a sigh, I set my journal to the side and stand up, brushing myself off from all the debris that has collected on my school uniform. To be completely honest, I was supposed to graduate last year, but it was a tough year for me, what with being taken away from yet another foster family and being told to live on my own because I'm eighteen now. I guess my stress took its toll, and I rebelled without even knowing it. Against whom, though, I still don't know. Now, here I am, sitting on the edge of the roof of the building I now live in, my journal beside me, and no words on the page. No one is coming to look for me, and therefore no one will find me. That's the way my life has been for the last two years.

I look down as I do every day, wondering what it would be like to fly down to the bottom of this building, my hair whipping around in the wind, my breath being taken from me so quickly, so inelegantly. It would be a horrible and rather disgusting way to die, despite bieng considered one of the more poetic ways by popular belief. I have no interest in dying in such a way.

The sun shines on my face, illuminating the darkness in my grey eyes. Am I really desperate enough to jump? Do I really have any desire to die so quickly, without even a blink to remember this colourful world by? This world, which has been an inspiration to so many of my poems, my stories of love and loss, of sadness and the one emotion that irritates me most - happiness. No... I guess I don't. I stand after a few seconds and take a look at the pitiful creatures below me.

I look down at the people at my feet, and I watch them for a few more moments. I'm really no different from them, but my life and my way of thinking, I feel, has somehow been warped, ever since the explosion that killed my family. Something must have happened to the people below me as well, right? Not all of them could have led a perfect life. None of them could be truly happy.

I feel some hope in my mind and my heart as I realize that I might not be the only one with such foolish thoughts of suicide and hatred. I take a step back from the side of the building, sighing as I pick up my journal and pen.

"Oh?" a voice mocks me from behind. "You're not going to do it?"

I turn slowly to see an attractive man standing a few feet away, only a few years older than me with short black hair and wearing a black coat with fur around the hood and wrists. It's an interesting style, but that's not what catches my attention – rather, it's his eyes. Those piercing brown eyes that can to see right through me, as though my body isn't here at all. At the sight of them, I feel a cold tingle go down my spine, and I shudder in response.

"What's your excuse this time?" he asks me as he steps closer. "Are you afraid, like all the others?" He laughs now, like he thinks that something he said is funny. "Or have you just changed your mind, having realized that maybe your life really is worth living?"

"I was never planning on jumping," I tell him, but we both know it's a lie. I do think about it, sometimes.

"Well, you must have thought about it," he prompts, amusement dripping from his smooth voice, which reminds me vaguely of an escaped convict. His speech pattern leaves nothing to be desired, let alone that dark laughter in his eyes. That disturbing, yet simultaneously intriguing darkness that shadows him even in daylight. He leans against the railing that separates us and goes down the middle of the roof, as if hoping to give someone some support while they're looking down on the rest of the world. As he continues, I find myself becoming captivated by his voice, those eyes, and the things he says.

"All you humans think about death at a height like this, especially someone in your position. You've been up here every day for the last few weeks, trying to think of what to write, what to say to an audience that doesn't exist. Most of those people down there don't even know who you are, so tell me – why don't you go down there and join them, rather than waiting for them to come up here?"

"You mean, why don't I just jump?" I rephrase simply, and he smiles.

"Tell me."

I look down at the concrete below again, and at all my fellow pawns walking around, completely clueless of the girl standing above them, watching them. I wonder briefly what it would be like to join them down there, and again I imagine myself falling from the rooftop, the wind slapping my face, cutting through my hair and my clothes as I fall headlong into the concrete. It would feel like flying for the time being, and I would open my arms to embrace what came next, but in the end...

"There is no beauty to a death like that," I tell him, and for a moment his smile fades, and he becomes perplexed, but the amusement and the darkness in his eyes stays.

"Beauty?" he enquires. "Is there any beauty in living the way you are now?"

As my eyes are guided back to him, I furrow my brow. I feel like it's the most obvious thing in the world when I answer. "Yes," I say slowly. "Yes, there is. I live in darkness, where no one can find me, and no one notices my pitiful existence," I look away from him again. "I suppose that such misery is beautiful to me. The appearance of happiness is boring, but when someone is on their knees, hugging themselves with sadness and depression gripping them, trying to comfort themselves... I can't help but be in awe."

When I look up at him again, I see that the smile is back on his face, and I frown. The amusement in his eyes seems to have doubled and his eyes are sparkling under the bright sun. I stare at him for a few moments, but when I open my mouth to ask what he's smiling at he begins to chuckle darkly, before his chuckle becomes a full-out laugh.

"What so funny?" I demand. I'm growing annoyed with him quickly, and I find that I want to just walk away more and more as he continues to laugh.

"Nothing, nothing," he says finally when he stops about three minutes later. "I like your view on things! I've never met a girl like you before."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, suddenly on the defensive. "What do you mean by that?"

He ignores my question, however, and moves on to another one, still grinning. "What's your name?" he asks me, at which I hesitate, but tell him reluctantly.

"Ishikawa Shiori," I tell him slowly. Then, I ask, "What's yours?" Here, though, he just smiles to himself, leaning on the railing with his back toward me.

"Shiori," he mutters to himself. "Interesting... it suits you, you know? To weave a poem... it really suits you." Suddenly he stands up and starts walking away. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Wait, what?" I demand as he heads toward the door leading to the inside of the building. "You're going to leave without even introducing yourself?"

"Why should I?" he asks, waving goodbye to me. "You'll find out sooner or later, won't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I call after him, but by then he is already gone, leaving me alone on the rooftop again. When he's gone, I turn back to look at the people below me. "What a pain..."

* * *

**** OK, so as a side note I'll just tell this to the people who I presume don't know, if you don't know much about Japan... or anime. ^^ I introduced Shiori in the customary Japanese way, which is last name first, so don't be surprised if some people call her Shiori while others call her Ishikawa. I've been watching anime for a long time, and I still get confused by that stuff, haha.  
** Also, please tell me what you think. Flamers are not accepted, but I am always grateful to constructive criticism. ^^**

**~STupIdWiNsAGaIn~**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I go to school the next day with a headache and an almost dysfunctional mind, thanks to that man yesterday. After talking to him, I found that I couldn't get him off my mind, wondering so many things about his mysterious aura and the way he spoke, the way he looked at me. To be completely honest, I found him a little creepy, but at the same time, incredibly intriguing. First of all, he knew where I was and what I was doing for two weeks on the roof, which kind of creeps me out. I wondered all last night if he's been watching me, or if he saw the journal and just came to some conclusion like that, with an arbitrary number in his mind? Then there's that arrogant, antagonistic attitude that he gave off. Compared to that, the fact that I don't know his name doesn't bother me at all.

I hate to say it, but I did come to school today mainly with him in mind. He said, "I'll see you tomorrow," and despite the humiliation I would feel if I ever told him this, I am really looking forward to that meeting. I wonder vaguely if he knows where I go to school too, and I feel a bit of hope in the back of my mind, but I try to bat it down. I can't end up love-stricken over a guy that I don't even know. That would be stupid and irresponsible, and seeing as I live alone now, I can't risk anything like my heart just for a bit of intrigue.

I sigh as I open my locker. I'm so pathetic...

"Ishikawa-senpai!"

I turn in response to my name, and find Kida Masaomi coming toward me, grinning as usual. He stops at the locker next to mine and leans against it. I scowl at him pointedly, but he just continues to grin.

"What do you want, Kida?"

"Aw, what?" he says, giving me an innocent look. "Why do you always assume the worst in people?"

"Maybe it's because I know you," I say, "and this will be the thirtieth time this year that you've hit on me, and the thirtieth time I tell you I'm not interested in younger guys. Plus, you disgust me."

"Ouch," he laughs, "Now that's just cruel, sempai."

"I'll do whatever it takes."

He laughs again, but then straightens up, not leaning anymore. "Anyway, that's not even why I'm here," he says. Then, he leans in close, his brown eyes brightening with excitement as he asks me, "Did you see the list?"

"No," I reply, knowing exactly which list he's talking about. It's the tutor list, a program at our school where a third year – or in my case, fourth year – has to tutor a first year in one area of their studies. Truthfully, no one takes this seriously, and knowing this Masaomi kid, he doesn't either. As far as I know, he doesn't take anything seriously – not even his seniors at school or office women taking a break on their lunch time... even his own best friend, a boy who's new to Ikebukuro... Ryuu-something.

"Well, guess who's stuck with you?" he asks in that same playful tone.

I groan as I take my books out of my locker, and slam it shut. "You can't be serious!" I snap at him. "You? You're the worst possible choice! Why can't you go with Katayama or something?"

"Your name was the one beside mine." He grins as he turns around, heading toward his class. He looks over his shoulder at me, still grinning, and he calls out, "Besides, I don't really mind you being my tutor, Ishikawa-sempai. It'll be fun."

I raise an eyebrow at him, but then just turn around and head to class. Fun? What could possibly be any fun with him around? Not only does that brat not know when to shut up, but he's always hitting on women at least five years older than himself. He's famous for it, and he hasn't even been at my school for a whole year yet. Raira tends to have rather insane people as students.

At lunch I head to go to the roof as always, hoping for a private place to think and eat, and – no surprise here – I take my journal with me. For a few minutes I stare at the journal in my hand, but then just drop it at my feet, knowing it's useless to even try to write anymore. Then, agitated, I lean against the fence that keeps kids from falling off the roof, and start eating my lunch before I even notice the man standing opposite me by the door, his hands in the pockets of his brown coat. His short black hair sways slightly in the wind, and his always-amused brown eyes stare at me from across the rooftop. He's smirking as he walks toward me.

I just stare in surprise for a few seconds, but then a smile forms itself on my face, and I can't help but laugh. I feel myself getting excited the moment I see him, like I would with a longtime friend, but I try to hide it, though I know he's able to see right through me. With those eyes, he can see anything and everything. I know I shouldn't be so happy to see him, but it's that aura he has that always draws me in, and the uncanny amusement he carries around with it. Like I said, I've been looking forward to this since I woke up this morning.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, too surprised and pleased to say anything else. Unfortunately I am unable to keep my happiness entirely to myself. Usually I don't have much to be excited or happy about, so maybe this is just built up anxiety disguised as happiness? Yeah... why not?

"Me?" he says playfully as he continues toward me. "I came to see you... Shiori." I feel myself blush slightly at the way he says my name, like it's some sort of delicious treat that he has just stuck into his mouth and is enjoying thoroughly. It doesn't help that his voice is so smooth – it reminds me of a black silk curtain, which conceals something dangerous, like a dragon, or-

"A sphinx," I hear myself mutter as I stare at him, and he stops walking toward me to raise an eyebrow, leaving me no choice but to explain. "That's what you remind me of: a sphinx. I can't figure you out."

"You can't?" he asks, even more curious now. "It seemed like you knew me so well yesterday."

"No," I chuckle at his assumption. "That was you knowing me. I still don't even know your name."

"Oh?" He continues walking toward me, the smile back on his face. "Well, in that case, I don't know you either. So, let's get to know one another."

"Alright, then I'll go first." I stand up and go over to him now. "What's your name?" He only smiles and gives me a look, to which I reply with a stern glare.

"Why don't I go first?" he says as he dances jauntily across the roof toward me. "I don't really like talking about myself anyway."

"If you insist," I sigh, rolling my eyes. I sit down on the roof, leaning against the fence as I do. To be honest, I don't like talking about myself either, but I let him go on.

"Why are you really up on the roof all the time?" he asks, and I feel my heart sink somewhat when he asks me. Why I'm so disappointed, though, I'm not sure.

"I thought you knew," I say, trying to hide my sudden bout of mild darkness.

"Well it's obvious that you're trying to think of something to write," he says as he comes over to me, and bends down so that we're level and he can look directly into my eyes. "Right now, I want to know what goes on in your head when you're up there, mainly to see if my theory is right or not."

"What's your theory?"

He just looks at me expectantly, and I can tell right away that he's not going to answer me. I sigh and lower my onigiri slowly from my mouth before taking another bite, and I realize that I've never told anyone this before, but it's not like hearing this from me makes him special or anything, just because he's the only one I will have told. It's just that no one has ever noticed me, and therefore never asks. I look down at my bento before answering him.

"Ever since my parents died, I've been alone, and yet everyone knows who I am and what happened to me. Now whenever I see explosions on TV, I can't help but be reminded of so many things, including my lack of privacy... but when I'm on the roof of my apartment building, where I can see all the other people, but they can't see me... I realize how little they know about me." I hesitate for a moment before finishing. "It's like you said yesterday: they don't know who I am."

He closes his eyes as he stands up again, his hands in his pockets. "Of course," he says satisfactorily, "Only you would come up with an answer like that. You really are a poet."

"Can I ask you something now?" I mutter. I feel him looking at me, and when I don't get a reply, I assume he's agreeing. "Were you looking for me yesterday? Or was that meeting just a coincidence?"

He comes and stands above me against the fence, leaning against it casually. "There are no coincidences," he says. I look up at him in surprise, to see that his brown eyes are looking down at me with his usual arrogant gaze. "But then, you already knew that." He sits down beside me, and the amusement in his eyes doubles again when he pushes his face close to mine, as if just to see my reaction. I lean back reflexively, not really sure what else I'm supposed to do. "I bet you've been wondering since yesterday how I knew you've been going on the rooftop for the past few weeks, and why you were there. You're probably wondering to yourself right about now, 'Why? Is he some kind of stalker? Can he read my mind'?"

I frown at him, at which he smiles, ecstasy building in his face and voice as he tilts his head to the side. I can see that he's really enjoying this by the playful body language that he's portraying to me. Does he do this a lot?

"I'm not wondering any of that," I lie blatantly, mainly to see if he will be able to see right through me. He grins. He can, and not only that, but he can see right through my motives for lying to him as well. No matter what, though, I stick with what I said. "I'm only wondering when you're going to get to the point."

"The point?" he repeats happily, and then chuckles as he stands up again restlessly. "My point is that I can see right through you, and I can't wait to see your reaction when you hear what I'm going to say next." Obviously, that isn't his point.

I stand to my feet now, leaving my bento and journal at my feet as I face him, suddenly getting nervous. "What is it?" I demand. Why was I so happy to see him today? I knew from the beginning that hopefulness would only bring me back to this darkness, this deep, dark hole that I've dug for myself in the past few years. This depression that drags me down into the depths of my own heart, locking me away... why can't I be a little more cautious about who I befriend? Am I really that desperate for companionship, that I would stoop this low, to a guy like him?

"I've been watching you, Shiori-chan," he continues happily as he dances across the rooftop, obviously just getting to the good part, "and to be honest, I didn't think you'd be this interesting, but you've proven me wrong! You're more fun than anyone I've ever met before! However, I'm not here to play." He stops hopping around now and stands in front of a bench on the rooftop, where from he looks at me with those playful, dark eyes, and he smirks that ominous smirk. "I've been watching you because I have a message to deliver."

"A message?" I'm surprised to hear this, since I have no one who would want to contact me that I can think of. "From who?"

"It's from someone you know, actually – someone you should have avoided, but couldn't."

"Who?" I ask again, but still he ignores me.

"It's actually a really interesting story. I mean, who would have thought that these people would remember you after losing sight of you for so long? After all, they did have some pretty personal ties with you."

"Who?" I ask again, this time more forcefully. He stops waving his arms around now, and looks at me, with his head still tilted back somewhat. I start to wonder if he's insane, right before he skips, hops and jumps in front of me, once again just inches from my face. I can feel his breath on my skin, but I don't draw back for reasons of pride and anger.

He says it slowly, like it's some sweet liquid dripping from an especially juicy fruit. Maybe he is insane after all...

"It's a message," he says, "from the people who killed your parents."


	3. Chapter 3

**** OK, so... hello there again! First of all, I'd like to warn you in advance, because this is getting uber intense! Muahaha! It's epic... at least I hope. . OK, maybe not UBER intense, but intense nonetheless. I think it's intense. Anyway, I've realized in the past few days that I have forgotten to put a disclaimer up on the thing, and because I'm making a big thing about this and announcing it on one of the chapters (because it's that important. :P) I decided to mention a few other things as well... like please don't leave me now! We're making so much progress! Oh, and thank you for all the wonderful reviews I've gotten so far, and the awesome constructiveness. Yay! I feel special!**

**** That was getting a little long, so I decided to make another one. By the way, this little area here (yeah, you know, this one) has absolutely no point. ^^**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DURARARA IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, FORM, OR SERUM. THE CHARACTERS ALL BELONG TO... THE PERSON WHO WROTE IT IN THE FIRST PLACE... YEAH... THAT ONE... I HAVEN'T READ THE BOOKS... OR THE MANGA, SO I DON'T KNOW WHO... ANYWAY, YOU UNDERSTAND MY POINT. (Except Shiori. She's mine. ^^)**

****Anyway... enjoy...**

* * *

CHAPTER 3

"It's a message from the people who killed your parents."

I stare at him for a few moments, but then lean against the fence behind me. "You can't be serious," I laugh, "This is some kind of hoax, right?"

"Why would it be a hoax?" he asks. "I'm just delivering a message."

"Then... you're lying?"

"No," he says as he stands up again, hands still in his pockets as he spreads his arms, making it look like he has wings with the coat he's wearing. "Why would I lie to you about something like this?"

"I don't know," I say, "You must have your reasons."

"Geez," he complains, dropping his arms now in exasperation. "You really don't trust anyone, do you?"

"I don't trust you," I correct him, at which he looks mockingly surprised.

"What?" he cries with a sharp laugh. "How can you not trust me? I'm the most trustworthy guy around!" I roll my eyes, not really paying attention to what he's saying anymore. I don't really care whether I'm supposed to trust him or not, to be honest, but when he looks at me again – after explaining to me all the reasons that I should trust him, which aren't that many – I realize that when I look at his eyes they tell me the truth. They were deceitful the first time I saw them, and they're also the number one reason I don't trust him, but there's also that air that he exudes... like he's always hiding something. Right now, however, that air, though the same as always, and those eyes, though as frighteningly dark as always, tell me the truth.

They were murdered, and he has answers.

"What is it?" I ask after a long hesitation.

He answers immediately. "I've found you." Then, he sits back and watches my reaction.

"What does that mean?" I demand of him, at which he shrugs. "Well you should know! You're the freaking messenger!"

"Not necessarily," he replies simply. "Besides, I think it's pretty self-explanatory. The people who killed your parents are sending you a message saying that they know where you are. I would think that something like that doesn't need an explanation, and you seem smart enough to realize that too. So, Shiori," he says in a more playful tone now, that same ominous look in his eyes as he searches my face once again for a reaction. He says my name like it's some kind of toy this time, obviously reflecting what he thinks of me. "What would you like to say back to them?"

"They can go screw themselves," I grumble to myself as I make my decision quickly. For me, it doesn't need a lot of forethought, and he looks satisfied with my answer. It's simple, like the message they sent me. Not really poetic, though. I turn around and look at the scenery below, all the kids from my school eating lunch in the courtyard. "I don't care if they killed my parents, and I'm not about to look for revenge. What's done is done, and it has nothing to do with me anymore."

"Ah!" he cries, getting excited again. I hear him come up behind me, and I turn to look at his gleaming face. "That's where you're wrong, Shio-chan!" I feel myself blush slightly as I hear him call me something so personal, but I manage to keep my composure as I look away from him. "This has absolutely everything to do with you!"

"How?" I ask. "Tell me, what does this have to do with me? If the people who wanted my parents dead got them dead, then why are they coming after me now? They achieved their goal!"

"Oh, but they didn't."

I stare at him, suddenly perplexed. What does that...? Suddenly, I let out a little gasp as a revelation comes to mind, and I feel myself stiffen against the fence. He just seems to be getting happier and happier, depending on how distressed I am. It's not so much that he's grinning, as he's just glowing, and his eyes are reflecting every little emotion that crosses his complex, slightly twisted mind.

"They're after me," I breathe. "They've been after me this whole time..."

"Yep."

"Were they even aiming for my parents when they killed them?" I ask. "Or was I the target?" I honestly don't know why I'm asking him this, as if he knows everything, but like I said before, he has answers. I don't know how many answers, or what kind of answers, but I know what those answers are about... and right now, I'm so greedy for them that I can taste it, I can feel it on my fingertips – and the source of the satisfaction that will grant me my wish is right in front of me.

"Oh, they were," he assures me, sounding a lot more amused than he should. "Actually, they were the original target, but when they realized that you might know something too, they started to hunt you down."

"Who are they? You keep saying 'they', like there's more than one person. Is this some kind of organization?"

"No..." he says slowly, trying to sort things out, "Not an organization... more like a company led by an extremely insane woman."

"More insane than you?"

"Much more insane than me."

For a few more moments I stare at him, looking as deep into those cruel brown eyes as I can. He's reading me, as always, just like I'm reading him – only he's having fun while doing it.

"Who is it?" I demand of him.

"My, my, Shiori," he says with a dramatic shrug. "Aren't we the passionate one? I thought you didn't want revenge."

"I don't," I tell him. "I just want to know who to stay away from."

He tilts his head to the side, examining me closely. "Didn't you say you wanted to die? You just don't want to die from a rooftop."

"Yes," I say, "but if I get caught by them, she might not give me a choice... and judging by the way you talk about this woman, I'm guessing you know her."

"Good guess," he says. "Her name is Yagiri Namie, and she's the head of-"

"Yagiri Pharmaceutical," I interrupt suddenly, knowing exactly where he's going with that.

"Good guess," he says again, before he starts coming toward me. "You might want to sit down for this. There's a lot of information."

"I'm fine."

"Some of it has to do with you."

"A lot of it has to do with me," I correct him, and he laughs darkly, agreeing with me. "Just get on with it."

"Alright," he begins. "Well, in that case, I'll start from the beginning. I've known Namie-san for a while now, and we're pretty close." I frown at that, and he seems to notice. "Don't worry – I'm not here to kill you. I just have a habit of watching things unfold. It's a hobby."

_Some hobby..._ I think cynically.

"Anyway, at Yagiri Pharmaceutical, they have shady workings underground. They abduct people, and they do illegal experiments on them. It's pretty gory, so I won't say what kind, but one day, they were patrolling the streets for new victims when one of the men in the big black van saw a pretty, young girl walking down the street, and he decided that she was good enough to be a subject. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

I feel sick as he looks at me with a significant expression on his face. I nod, and he continues:

"So he abducts her, and they do an experiment on her, erasing her memory right after. They have technology to do that, you know. They just don't tell anyone because if that got out, then so would so many other of their secrets.

"So, they sent her home only twenty-four hours later, and her parents were glad to see her again because of the fact that she'd been gone for as long as they could stand without going to look for her themselves. Over the next few weeks, though, they started to notice that the girl had lost some of her memories, and she was falling behind in school because she just couldn't remember what she was supposed to hand in. So, her parents did some research, and what they found was disturbing.

"Missing children, mostly teenagers, had been reported by worried parents, but all were returned within the next twenty-four hours, so as not to be considered missing by the police. They always returned with memory loss, and some of that memory loss turned into short-term, so they couldn't remember things as well as they used to be able to. At least, for the next couple of weeks."

I really feel sick now, literally sick to my stomach. I can't help but think to where this is going, and that the hypothetical girl he's referring to is me, and her parents mine. Of course. Who else would he use as an example?

"Long story short, the girl's parents did their research, and discovered a link between the company and their daughter. So, they confronted the head of this company, saying that if they didn't come out and admit what they've been doing, the two parents would sue them for as much as they were worth."

No way...

"So, in the next few days, the head of said company put a small bomb beneath a large car, and waited around the corner for the two parents to pass on their way to put their daughter to work with chores... but do you know what happened to that happy couple?" he asks me. I swallow hard, my eyes wide now as I stare at him. I don't want to answer. I can't answer, and he knows this, so he does. He makes a large motion with his hands, outstretching his arms in a dramatic representation of an explosion.

"Kaboom!" he yells enthusiastically. "The bomb went off and killed them both!"

I hear the same thing in my head, only louder – ten times louder – just like I heard that night. It was only a few blocks down. I could even hear the screams of passersby as they witnessed the couple get caught up in the blast, at first holding hands, and then in pieces. People ran by the living room window, while others burned with my parents.

People screamed.

They screamed so loud.

The blast was so bright, so loud. It deafened me for at least two whole minutes before I realized what had happened. It blinded me for three minutes. Then, I heard the screams. I saw the fire only two blocks away. I got out of my house to see what was going on... and I saw...

I saw...

"Stop it!" I yell at him suddenly. Then, suddenly, I'm in a rage, and I grab his coat collar and slam him against the fence, pushing him there with every ounce of strength that I have. "Stop it, stop it, stop it! Shut up!"

I'm panting when I finish, and I feel his eyes on me. I can't breathe. I can't speak. I can't say anymore than I already have, but I don't want to anyway. My mind is blank, aside from the screams, aside from the flames. My body is trembling. My heart is pounding, and I just can't seem to get out of this. I can't get out. I can't get out! I can't get out!

"I told you to sit down," he says, still sounding amused.

My hands tighten around his jacket collar, and I swallow hard. "I told you to shut up," I whisper. "I told you to shut up... just shut up..." I feel myself going closer to him, pulling myself in, so that my head rests on his chest, and he doesn't fight me. He doesn't even move.

Soon, my whole body rests against him, and in my distress I barely even notice. I don't know when I became so close to him, when my body stopped supporting itself, or when I started to hear his heart beat and his steady breathing. I don't know when I started to lean against him, but what I feel against me is something I haven't felt in a long time. It's something I've wanted so badly since that day.

It's warmth. The feeling of another body so close to me, and though he lacks the feeling of safety that my parents gave me, he's still warm. He's still solid. He's there... and he's the only thing I can feel right now. Physically and emotionally, I have been twisted and warped in all different directions. I don't know when or where I began. I don't know when or where I'm going to end, but I do know that right now, something – someone – is there.

For the first time in years, I'm warm.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING OF DURARARA.**

****Enjoy. ^^ Please let me know what you think of it, even if you think I can fix something. Constructive criticism is always something I appreciate.**

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CHAPTER 4

It turns out that Kida Masaomi is actually good at math, and he only chose the subject to either annoy me or get more free time. Right now he's sitting across from me at a table in the library, his books open to make it look like he's working, but I can see him texting friends on his cell phone. Meanwhile, I didn't even bother to open my books after I found out his terrible secret.

"You've got to be kidding me," I growled at him, giving him the glare of a lifetime. He backed away jokingly, but he was grinning. "You're good at math? Why didn't you tell me this before? I would have completely cancelled this stupid session!"

"We have to spend time together," he shot back at me. "If we don't we can't accurately fill out the hours that we were 'studying'. Besides, is there anyone else you would rather spend such a beautiful evening with?"

"Yes," I grumbled. He looked at me, confused, because he knew as well as I did that there was no one, but he didn't say it. He's too nice. No, he just gave me a look stating the very same thing. "It's not like hanging out with a kid two years younger than me is fun at all. I would rather be at home, making supper. That's how awesome you are."

Of course, he only laughed at that, brushing it off as a compliment with some cheesy pick-up line. Typical.

Now, though, he's just sitting across from me texting, and I'm just looking out the window, bored as ever. I know what I should be doing right now, considering I still have homework aside from the stuff I'm supposed to be doing with Kida, but I'm not really in the mood. I can't concentrate on anything... especially after what I heard today.

Everything is so screwed up. What he told me – the man whose name I still don't know, as I realized after school ended today – sounded like something out of a science fiction novel, but I know it's true. I don't know why, but something tells me to trust him, even though those eyes that bore into me so easily are as dark and disturbed as the depths of the ocean. Not to mention that I don't know anything about him, but... he gave me answers today, and that's really all I need, isn't it?

I look down at my pencil now, and twirl it between my fingers, waving it around now and then as I examine it with what must seem, to those who can't read my mind, like the utmost intensity. Saying I was kidnapped and had my memory wiped afterwards... does he really think I'll believe something so far-fetched? Unless it's the truth and he really doesn't expect me to believe him at all.

I lay my head down on the table now, with my arms beneath it for support as I hide my face from the world. It's so surreal. I can't believe it, but I know it's the only choice I have. I mean, at first I didn't even want answers – I didn't think there were answers to begin with, seeing as I thought it was an accident for the past two years. What is wrong with me? Couldn't I see that it was no accident? The cops said something about a terrorist attack, but then there was also rumour of a gas leak mixed with some other factor that I can't recall now.

For a moment I wonder how he knows all this, but then I stop when I remember that he's close to this Namie person – another reason I shouldn't trust him, aside from the few, but powerful, other reasons I have, like the feeling in my gut. He's a horrible person.

"Sempai?"

I look up at Kida-kun when he addresses me, and notice him yawning.

"How long has it been?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says as he stretches over the back of his chair with his arms over his head. "Anyway, it's almost my curfew, so we should probably split now. I'll see you tomorrow, OK?" He stands up and takes up his bag from the ground before he says goodbye and leaves.

His curfew, huh? I kind of miss having one of those. As soon as I think that, I feel a familiar darkness well up inside me, and the same sort of hopelessness that I've felt ever since the day when the police came by my house in the middle of the night to tell me that they have identified my parents as the victims of a car explosion. They asked me if I had any relatives, but both my parents had been only children – just like me – and both pairs of my grandparents have been dead for five years or more. That's why I'm alone, and this loneliness grips me even in a place like this, with all these people around me, in a place being washed in artificial light.

I realized it's dark outside as I look out the window, and I sigh as my eyes are dragged back to the table in front of me.

Will Kida be alright on his own? If he gets taken by someone, then at least he has people who would notice. His friends at school, his parents, siblings if he has any... and whoever else you can add in there. He has people who love him.

I sigh as I stand up and take up my bag as well, walking out the door and into the darkness of night. I love walking around at night, but it's not a very wise thing to do around my neighbourhood, because of all the drug addicts and the murders that happen there. Considering that, it's kind of depressing that I can't walk around at night without potentially getting attacked, but I'm glad when I remember that I don't have any other form of transportation.

I know it sounds cliché, and even I've heard this a million times from a thousand different sources, but I really mean it when I say that I belong with the darkness. I feel safe in it, and even though I know there are threats that mainly come out at night, I don't worry about them that much, because I know the darkness of the night can conceal me in any corner or crevice, if I want to escape. I love the darkness, and it loves me. We support each other, and to be honest, I think I am closer to this idea of darkness than I have ever been to any person because darkness and I – we understand each other. We feel what the other feels. We're connected by the agony we feel every day, by the things we see happening after the sun goes down.

I look around peacefully as I walk through the darkness, and I deliberately go down alleys to avoid street lights and hide in the darkness that loves me so much. There isn't much to see, but at least I know where I'm going. I've been down these alleys more times than I can count, and recently it's like I have a friendship with this place that seems to be growing more and more. I guess I've come to call it "my alley", but I know that's not accurate. This alley belongs to the darkness, another one of my good friends.

I hear voices coming toward me and I immediately hide in the shadows with my back to them, so my dark coat and hair are all they see as they pass me – if they see me at all. One of the men, as he passes me, pulls out a cell phone and presses talk after pressing a number on speed dial.

A few seconds later, he says, "She wasn't there... yeah, I know, alright? I don't need a huge lecture from you!... Don't you ever listen? I said she wasn't there!... Well if you want her so badly, then why don't you look for her?... I don't have time for this." Then he hangs up the phone and sighs as he turns to the man beside him. "Geez, she can be a pain. I don't get what's so important about this girl anyway."

"I think it has something to do with the company," the other man says, and I stiffen at the mention of a company when I think of what that man told me today. Ugh, how can such a widely-used word give me such violent waves of anxiety?

"Well, obviously," the first man snaps at him. "I'm just mad because this psycho won't give us a break! I mean, she's always harping about how we have to find her, but she never goes out! Who does she think she is?"

"Um, the head of the company?" the other man states the obvious with a tone that mocks the first man. "Besides, it's our job as her underlings to do this kind of stuff, right? She may be crazy, but she has a good source."

"Yeah, I know," the first man groans as they start walking again. "That informant guy, right? He wasn't the one who told us this chick's address, though, was he?"

"Nah," the other man says. "We'll just have to come back later, I guess." He sighs, and I hear his clothes rustle as he supposedly rubs the back of his head. "This girl shouldn't be so hard to find."

I shudder as I listen to them pass me without incident, and when they are out of sight and earshot, I pull out of my corner and start walking again. Thanks to the darkness they didn't see me, and my best friend protected me once more. To be honest, I don't know if they would have hurt me if they knew I was there, but I figure it's good that they didn't notice anyway. Considering what they were talking about, though, they probably would have. If it was me, I wouldn't want anyone listening in to a conversation like that.

Come to think of it, what were they talking about? They sounded like a couple of kidnappers reporting back to their boss... I shudder at that thought, thinking back to what I was told at lunchtime today on the roof.

Namie Yagiri is looking for me... wait.

I stop now and look back at the spot I was hiding in only two minutes ago, and I frown. Could they have been talking about me? They were coming from the direction I'm heading right now, toward my apartment building, but if that's the case, then they just came from there and I'm lucky I didn't run into them right when I opened my door to enter my current home.

For a moment, my eyes widen in horror and my heart speeds up in my chest, my body tensing in fear, but then I force myself to relax. "No way..." I say to myself out loud. My voice is shaking slightly. "They couldn't be looking for me. They were talking about some other poor girl." I laugh nervously as I look back toward my destination, which is only two blocks away.

Then again, the person they were talking to was a woman, and they did say that she knew someone.

_I've known Namie-san for a while now, and we're pretty close_...

No way! No, no, no! They weren't looking for me. I'm imagining things. Really, I am. I'm getting myself worked up over nothing. This is crazy!

Despite my thoughts to negate my paranoia, I find myself walking a little faster and holding my bag a little closer to me as I head toward my apartment. My heart is racing and by the time I reach my block, my breath has shortened with my lack of endurance. I fumble with the keys to the building, the tension building in my hands the more I try to go back into safety, while I look around, my mind reeling with questions and screaming fears at me from every direction.

_No way..._ _No way... No... No... They aren't after me. They can't be looking for me. I'm just being paranoid._

I run up the stairs, heading to my apartment on the third floor, but am stopped when I see my landlord at my door, playing around with the doorknob. When he sees me, he gets a stern look on his face and glares at me. Great, another thing for me to worry about – he's hated me since the first moment he looked at me, but he still gave me a place to live, which I was happy about at the time. Now I fear I may have to change my location, not that I have the money to do so.

"Ishikawa!" he growls at me as he stands in my path, his wrinkled face reflecting his annoyance with me. "Where were you this evening? I tried calling for you, but you wouldn't answer!"

I bow impatiently in apology, not really sure what else to do. I don't have time for this!

"I'm very sorry, Yanushi-san," I say to him. "I was out with someone, doing a project for school."

"Well, your friends were worried about you," he says, and I stand up immediately. Friends? What is he talking about? "Two men came by and asked if they could see you, because they tried to call you, but you didn't answer. They said they were from child services, just checking up on you to see how you were faring alone."

"What?" I breathe in terror, my eyes wide again. I want to push past him, but seeing as we're near stairs, I don't dare. I don't want to hurt him. It could cost me my living space!

He sees my confused expression and frowns, seeming worried. "Ishikawa, are you alright? You look pale. Anyway," he adds, not spending much time on the subject of my health. Of course, he was just being courteous. "They said you would know who they were, so they didn't give me names, but they did give you a number to contact them by."

"What is it?" Honestly, I don't want to know, so I'm hoping silently that he doesn't tell me, but he can't read minds. He hands me a small piece of paper with the number on it.

_**935-3463-968**_

I think it's a pretty weird number, but I don't really care at the moment. He doesn't seem to notice anything weird about it at all, or maybe he just didn't care to look at it.

"Th-Thank you," I mutter as I bow to him again, but this time more stiffly. So they were looking for me after all? This is horrible. Then I look at the doorknob he's fondling with, and I see his key in the keyhole, and my eyes widen. "Did you let them in?" I ask, suddenly breathless. "Y-You didn't, did you?"

"Of course I did," he says, and I feel my chest tighten inside me. My hands turn into fists around my bag's strap. He gets another annoyed look on his face as he notices me stiffen, and he rolls his eyes, not paying any attention to my distress. "They were looking for you, and you weren't answering your door, so I thought you were just avoiding them. They left just a few minutes ago, and when they left, I noticed something else that I want to talk to you about. You need to clean up your room, Ishi-"

"Not now," I interrupt him urgently, pushing him out of the way as I open my door to see a huge mess on the floor, my clothes and extra school supplies scattered everywhere. I don't have much stuff to begin with, not even a table or a laptop, but they made it look like the place had enough stuff to fill the apartment building, let alone the apartment itself.

My hand moves to my mouth in horror and I take a step back, the stress building in my chest again. They were looking for me! They were really looking for me this entire time! Why did I have to come back here? Why didn't I just go somewhere else? Are they coming back? They can't be coming back! Please don't say they're coming back!

"Clean up your apartment, or I'll have to kick you out," my landlord snaps at me, angered by my sudden attack on him. "I mean it Ishikawa!"

I'm not listening to him as I go into my apartment, closing the door on his annoying voice as I look around me. What was I thinking, coming back here? What am I thinking now? Why am I staying? I look around and remember that I don't even have a phone, so the number they gave me is completely useless. Why did they-?

I look down when I step on something hard, only feeling it slightly through my shoe, but if I took my shoes off before coming in, it probably would have made me yell out some kind of obscenity. I look down at the light crunch that comes to my attention as I lift my foot and take a step back, and I'm surprised to see a yellow cell phone there. Is this one of theirs?

I bend down to pick it up, my hands shaking as I flip it open, almost expecting to see some kind of bomb timed to go off, programmed into it. Instead, I see that it's on, and that same number that the landlord gave me is on the screen in front of me, large colourful numbers on a white background. Then, I look down at the numbers below and see that they're glowing a bright blue, showing me letters underneath the numbers.

Curious, I stare at the letters and the number, trying to figure out why they would give me a number that doesn't even make sense. I don't think there's an area code in Japan that starts with nine-four-five, but I could be wrong. I've never really been outside of Ikebukuro.

Maybe... it's some kind of message? I look at all the letters under the numbers that I was told, but only a few of them make sense to be a message, and it even goes in line with what I heard today from the man on the rooftop.

935...

W... E... L...

3463

F... I... N... D

968

Y... O... U...

"We'll find you..." I whisper to myself, and in my shock my hands start trembling so hard that I drop the phone, and I'm not even able to hold myself up anymore, and I fall to my knees after taking two steps back. "We'll find you..." No way... why is this happening to me? Why? Why?

I hunch my back forward and hug myself tightly, clutching the material of my clothing between desperate fingers as I feel myself start to hyperventilate.

_We'll find you..._

_We'll find you..._

_We'll find you..._

It repeats in my head over and over again, it won't stop! Why? I ask no one again. Why is this happening to me?

My fingers tighten around me and I close my eyes, trying to escape out of this wretched hole that I'm in – this hole that has buried me so deep in my own despair – this hole that has convinced me that what I feel right now is beautiful, that what I feel right now is somehow comforting. Even with the clothes on my back, and my own heat warming my body, I still feel the stale air around me closing in, brushing against my back and making me shiver. I realize as I'm sitting here on the floor that I am alone. I am the coldest I have been in my life, and there is absolutely no one who can give me the warmth that I need.


	5. Chapter 5

****OK, so I know this is a little fast for an update, but I've decided to move a little faster in the story, because in a week I'm not going to be here, because I'm going back to my hometown for the summer. Plus, I don't know if my flash drive will work on the computer, because it seems to not work on this computer (as far as I know) and I don't know if I'll even have internet there (small town, and my mom isn't exactly the richest person in the world. ^^), so I'll try to finish it as fast as I can, and there will probably be updates close to once, or even twice a day if it's on the weekend (because I have school, lol). Maybe I won't go as far as to twice a day on the weekend, though, that would be a little extreme, would it not? Wait, I might not even be here this weekend... hmmm... what ever shall I do? Geez, this is frustrating.**

****As a side note, this does not mean that the story itself will go any faster. I will write it as planned, just with more frequent updates, so I hope you're reading this, because otherwise you're going to be like, "What? What's going on? Why such frequent updates?" and you shall be confuzzled.**

****Anyway, I hope you like this chapter too, and please let me know if just one event per chapter is too slow for you. ^^ I could possibly make them longer, but that would defeat the purpose of a chapter, now wouldn't it? Hmmm... well, in any case, I want to thank all who have reviewed so far, because you have made my day more than once. ^^**

****Thus, enjoy. XD**

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CHAPTER 5

_I'm running through the streets of Ikebukuro, my hand over a wound in my side to slow the bleeding. I can't see straight, and my body feels weak. I'm stumbling all over the place: into walls, into people, into carts on the sidewalk, tripping over stones. I'm a pathetic sight, something people want to stay away from. They don't understand what's going on, and despite my cries for help, my pleas, they don't stop and look. They all just continue walking, not even taking notice of me._

_I see my parents walking side by side, holding hands with a little girl between them. She has dark hair, just like mine, and she's smiling, but her eyes are cold and heartless. She's laughing with them, screaming in excitement when her father picks her up in his arms, throws her into the air, but still her eyes remain emotionless. Still, she's cold. She's staring ahead like she's not even there._

_My parents turn to look at me, their eyes warm as they smile at me before a white light envelops them, a black ribbon coming out of it and wrapping around their mouths and bodies, tying them down. No... no! What's going on? Stop it!_

_The little girl watches me with heartless grey eyes, her short skirt waving in the wind, along with my Raira uniform. Why am I wearing it? I can't remember... did I just get out of school?_

_I notice that the black ribbons from the light are only tying my parents up. They aren't coming toward me or the little girl in front of me – they're only going after my parents._

_No! I hear myself screaming, but the voice is distant, though the pain is real. The pain is there. No, let them go! Don't take them! Don't take them from me!_

_I reach forward, but as I'm heading there I'm stumbling forward, unable to hold myself up, I fall to my knees thanks to a sudden pain in the back of my knee. Looking back at what must have stabbed me or bitten me, I am horrified to see a woman there with long brown hair and green eyes. She is smiling cruelly up at me, holding my ankle with one hand, and a knife with a bloodied tip in the other. I struggle to get away from her, but she holds me firmly. She will not let go. She pulls herself toward me with her hand on my ankle, and suddenly I find that I can't move. I can't do anything against her. She's wearing a white lab coat, and under that white lab coat, I see something moving. I see a thick line swerving under her coat, coming across her back._

_I scream when a snake suddenly comes out of her coat and wraps around her neck, looking at me with cruel brown eyes. It's a familiar look that it gives me, like it's constantly laughing at me. It's a sadistic look that tells me that it enjoys this. It's enjoying this pain that I'm in._

_I know that expression._

Suddenly, my eyes snap open, and I feel my arm across my forehead, blocking the blinding sunlight that's coming down at me from above. It's not doing a very good job, though. My eyes are sore. Wait a minute! For a moment in a panic as I'm unsure of where I am, but then I remember what happened last night. I went home to find that someone had been looking for me, and decided not to stay there, so I came to the only place that I could think of at the moment: my school. I remember sitting down on a bench, and then lying down only to drift off to sleep. Now the sun is up and I have absolutely no idea what time it is.

"Ah, Shio-chan!" a familiar, antagonistic voice says at my feet, and I look up to see the man from yesterday smiling at me with that same annoyingly playful grin. "You're awake!"

I take the arm off of my face and look up at him, frowning as I squint in the blinding sunlight. "What are you doing here?" I ask in annoyance. "Aren't you supposed to be off playing with Yagiri Namie or something?"

"How cruel, Shiori," he says playfully with the most adorable pout I have ever seen on a man so insane. I'm not buying it, so I just continue to glare at him. "I came to play with you instead. Namie bores me. She's always asking me what I'm thinking about, and when I don't tell her she has a temper tantrum. You know, I really think that she needs therapy."

"Seriously," I say as I sit up fully and put my feet on the ground. "What are you doing here? After getting the message out yesterday, wouldn't you be free to do whatever you want?"

"I am," he tells me, and he scoots closer to me, making me back away slightly. "I want to watch you," he tells me, and I instantly feel the blood rush to my face. What did he just say? "I want to know how you think and what you feel... you're the most interesting person I've ever met."

I feel my breath taken away from me as I stand up and walk over to the fence, as I try to get it back. "S-Seriously!" I yell at him, my voice cracking as I continue to walk away from him. "Why are you here? You delivered your message, now go away!"

"Shiori," he complains, and I hear him stand and walk over to me, probably still grinning. "I love humans." Great, he's ignoring me. "I really do, but all they ever do is what I expect them to do, and no one ever does the unexpected. Although it's always fun to see the gang world go wrong. They're always so stupid, picking fights with people who don't want to fight, picking on people like Shizu-chan, knowing they're going to lose. They're all so fascinating!"

My hands clench into fists by my side, and when I turn around I find him right in front of me, standing casually with his hands in his pockets again. I take a step back, trying to get more space between us.

"Is that all you care about?" I ask angrily. "You don't give a crap about the fact that you laughed while describing my parents' death or that you're completely and utterly insane! All you care about is your own stupid _entertainment_? What are you?"

He looks thoughtfully at me for a second, but then bends down to my level, so that we're staring each other square in the eye. His eyes – those horrible eyes – stare at me, and I recognize them from my dream. He's here to destroy me.

"I'm insane," he states clearly, "Just like you said. However, there are better ways to say it. I mean, you didn't have to yell it out like that."

"What-?"

"A psychopath," he says as he stands up and starts pacing around me. He starts to count on his fingers as he continues around me. "A murderer, even though I haven't actually killed anyone in years."

Y-Years, did he say?

"A bold-faced liar. The devil – that one I didn't mind so much. Actually, it suits me."

What is he talking about? Why is he saying all this? It makes no sense to me. Suddenly, he stops behind me and takes hold of my shoulder, turning me so that I'm facing him. Again, I take a step back, trying to get as much space between us as possible, but he just follows me, grinning like some deranged little kid.

"Did you know that there's a difference between a sociopath and a psychopath?"

"No," I answer, and he smiles even wider.

"Good! Then I can tell you. Psychopaths are completely insane, and have no sense of right and wrong, and not even a hint of common sense. They just kill because they know they have to, and there's no order to the way they do things."

I just stare at him, and for a second he pauses to look at me, but then continues.

"Sociopaths feel nothing, and they are usually highly intelligent. They don't have a sense of right and wrong either, but they always have an order of how to do things. Do you understand?"

"Why are you telling me this?" I demand angrily, and he just smiles at me.

"I don't know," he says, with a casual shrug. "Probably because I've been called both before in the same day."He stops and twirls around in a circle in his toes, his brown, fur-lined coat fanning out all around him. The he stops a few feet away from me and gives me a dark look, which suddenly makes me cold. "I do have more information for you, you know. Anyway, I was doing something before you woke up, but I can't really remember what it was... oh well! Then I guess I'll just have to start over again."

"You were leaving!" I yell at him, pointing to the door leading to the inside of the school.

"No, I don't think I was."

"Then you are now!" I yell, and I try to go behind him to push him toward the door, but he follows me in a circle, making sure I never end up behind him. "Why are you doing this to me?" I practically scream at the top of my lungs as I turn to face him again. "I don't want you here, so why can't you just _leave_?"

He sighs as his head tilts back and to the side slightly, his eyes always on me as he does. I stare at him as he takes my shoulders in a firm grip and then lowers his head with a laugh so his eyes are staring straight at mine again. His hands on my shoulders send a shiver down my spine, making me feel slightly sick.

"Ah," he says in a voice that teases me now, "You didn't want me to leave yesterday, did you? You were holding me so tightly." He grins cruelly at me as he watches my face glow red once again as I push him away.

"I wasn't holding you!" I yell at him defensively, stomping my foot for emphasis. "I hate you! I told you to leave!" I realize as I push him away, that I'm shaking. I'm trembling with embarrassment and anger at him and myself. What an idiot! What a freaking idiot! What does he think I am, too desperate to hold myself up? So I just go after the first guy I see? No! He's wrong! "I don't want you here! I don't even know your freaking name!"

I hear him laughing in front of me, and when I look up again, I'm so angry that I can barely contain myself. When he continues to laugh, I go up to him and push him against the fence, but it seems that something else is wrong here, aside from him.

As soon as I push him, his eyes widen and he stops laughing as the fence just keels backwards, and falls without a second for me to react as he, too, is pulled back with it. My eyes go wide, and my first instinct is to grab onto him, my hand wrapping around his wrist just before he goes over the side of the building with the broken fence. I'm not fast enough, though, and he falls over anyway, headfirst.

"No!" I cry in horror, and I reach over the side of it to grab onto something, and my hand wraps around his ankle, this time with a firm grip. His jacket is hanging down over his head, and I see his hair hanging with it. His eyes are looking up at me, and then down at the ground as the fence continues to fall. Then, a few seconds later, I wince as it hits the ground with the loudest clatter I have ever heard. I hear the man panting a few meters below me, and I look down at him, now with both my hands around his ankle.

"Are you alright?" I call down to him, and he just stares at me for a few seconds. "Hey!" I call down to him again. "I know you can hear me. Are you OK?"

I hear him chuckle, and even feel it though his leg as he continues to look up at me. He shakes his head, looks down at the chaos that has ensued the _crash_ that echoed from three floors down, and he bursts out laughing. There are people down there, people from my class, that I see pointing up at us, and I even hear a girl scream.

"Hey!" I yell down to him, annoyed again. "Answer me, you crazy freak!" Although, I guess the maniacal laughter is more than enough for me to know that he's alright. "Fine," I say, "I'm pulling you up now."

I start to move one hand up to his shin, where I grab hold of his calf muscle, and start pulling him up from there. Once I get to the knee, it's a lot easier to pull him up, but he's getting heavy, and I'm not that strong to begin with. I'm honestly surprised I haven't dropped him yet, but as long as I'm holding onto him with at least one hand, he'll be fine... I think. Once I get past his knee, I swing his leg over my shoulder, so I can have a better grip on him, and grab hold of his thigh, feeling my face go red as I do so. I have never, ever, in my entire life, ever touched anyone on the inner thigh, and it feels awkward. I hope he doesn't notice my red face.

"My, my, Shio-chan!" he mocks me. Crap. He noticed. "You're pretty personal these days, aren't you? First you hold me so tightly that I can barely breathe, and now you're climbing up my leg? I hope you know what comes next."

"Shut up!" I yell at him as I reach his waist. "I'm trying to help you here, and if you're just going to make fun of something I didn't even do, then I'm going to drop you!" My face reddens even more as I realize what I have to do to reach his waist. I groan in anguish as I grab onto his bare waist, because his shirt has gone up to his chest due to gravity, and I need a good grip on him to pull him up, and with my other arm I reach to his other side, but his leg is still over my shoulder; and I can't move it without letting him go.

"Come on," I complain loudly, "I need you to help me here! I can't pull someone as heavy as you up without your help! Besides," I add as I have to grab onto his belt to keep him from falling out of my grip, "I can't grab onto your waist and get a good grip, and if I keep doing this, your pants will come off." I hate myself for mentioning it, but it's a fact.

"Right, right, I understand," he sighs, as if this is just some menial task that he has to take care of, but he really doesn't want to. He bends his upper body forward, so that he's able to grab onto my shoulders, and I can't help but blush at the closeness between us. I look away from his sharp eyes as I wrap my arms around his waist so that I'm hugging him tightly, and pull him onto the roof. Then, when that's all over, I go and sit down on bench, realizing with yet another burst of annoyance, that I'm sweating.

"Man, you're heavy," I complain.

"Are you calling me fat?" he demands playfully, but I don't answer. I refuse to answer anymore of his stupid questions, especially if he's just making fun of me. Like now. I can feel him looking at me, and I feel his eyes boring into my face. A few seconds later he asks, "Why is your face red?"

I feel my body stiffen in embarrassment, and I hide my face even more, putting my hair in front of it to act as a curtain. "I'm just not used to that sort of thing, OK?"

"What sort of thing? Pulling someone up to a rooftop?"

"Y-Yeah... that..."

"Liar."

"Shut up!" I snap at him, my voice cracking for the second time today. "It's none of your business, anyway!" Ugh, I hate him so much! I'm not used to being so close to a guy, or to anyone – emotionally or physically – and his face was so close to mine... it's not funny! It's embarrassing! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! Now he's just teasing me about it. He's only asking me because he knows it'll embarrass me.

I don't want to know his name anymore, because if I know his name, I might as well know his favourite colour too, and I don't want to know. I don't want to be his friend! I don't want to know anything about him!

"I'm bored now," he states, and I look up at him in disbelief. Is he serious? He's standing casually next to me, looking around and taking in his surroundings. He stops when he looks at the base of where the fence used to be, and he goes over and kneels before it.

"Whoa, are you crazy?" I demand of him as I go over and pull him away from there by the hood of his brown coat. I stand him up in front of me, and punch him in the chest, making him cough and laugh simultaneously. "What are you doing? If you fall, I don't have the energy to pull you up again!"

"Relax, relax," he says, waving a hand nonchalantly, like what I did for him is worth nothing. Yeah, sure, you saved my life. Big deal. I feel myself start to fume as he goes over to the edge of the building again, and I glower at him from behind. I really hate him. "Hey, Shio-chan, look at this."

"Don't call me that," I scold him, but he ignores me and continues to look at the base. When I realize what he's looking at, I go over and kneel beside him, but out of arm's reach. I see jagged lines on the thick bar of metal sticking out of the ground, and I realize that it looks like something a saw would do. I feel my breath being taken from me for the second time today.

"No..." I whisper to myself, and I look at all the others around me too. They look identical – all except one, which looks like it was only cut about eleven twelfths of the way before it finally had something to literally push it over the edge. This guy's weight was probably as much as it could take, along with the weight from the rest of the fence.

"This must have taken all night," he mutters as he looks at the others too. "They've all been sawed clean off... I wonder what could do this."

"This is sabotage...?" I ask breathlessly. I don't think he can hear me, though, as I said it under my breath. I can barely breathe.

He looks at me with those same brown eyes as before, always examining me, always watching me, as if constantly predicting my next move. I look back at him, my eyes hard as I stand up again. I hate how he's always doing that. He's like a dog that can never stop sniffing things, or peeing on things to make them known as his own.

I look away from him as I go and sit down on the bench again, trying to steady my breathing. Why is this happening to me? He comes and stands in front of me again, still watching me with that penetrating gaze, his dark air reaching me even at arm's length.

"Why are they trying so hard?" I wonder aloud, but I'm not sure who I'm talking to – him or me? "Why are they doing this to me? Can't they just let me go? I mean, I don't know anything – they wiped my memory. I don't know anything!"

A pair of hands come up to my temples and he tilts my head up to look at him, my grey eyes filling with the same darkness as before. I glower at him in anger, and twist my mouth to the side, but he just keeps looking at me with those eyes infiltrate my mind once again. He's enjoying this, I realize with just one glance at that disgusting smirk on his face. Ugh, that just makes me even more angry! How can I know so much about this man, and still not know his name?

No! I stop myself suddenly. I don't want to know his name! I don't want to know anything about him!

Suddenly, I hear the door to the roof open, and footsteps coming toward us.

"Ishikawa-sempai!" Kida Masaomi's voice rings in my ears, and I turn to face him in surprise. I stand up as he comes toward us, panting, obviously having run up the stairs. "Sempai, are you OK? I knew you'd be up here, and -"

Suddenly, he stops when he sees the man beside me, and his brown eyes, usually so full of life, become hard and angry, and his face shameful.

"What are you doing here?" he demands of the man, who only smirks as cruelly as ever, his dark air suddenly playful as he looks back at Kida, whose eyes are now on me and the hands that are still on my temples. "Ishikawa, what are you doing with him?"

I just stare back at him, feeling the man's eyes on me as well. I'm not really sure what to do here, so I just look back and forth between them. What is going on?


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

"K-Kida-kun?" I ask in surprise as he continues to stare at us. His eyes are dark and dangerous, like he's ready to kill, and his hands are fists by his sides, trembling in rage. "Kida, what's-?"

"Don't worry about it, Shio-chan," the man in front of me says mockingly. "He's just an old friend of mine." He takes his hands off of my temples and allows me to stand up to face Kida, who suddenly rushes toward me and grabs my wrist, pulling me closer to him, and away from the man who is now behind me.

"Wait, Kida!" I cry as I pull away from him. "What are you doing? We were just talking, that's it! What's your problem?"

The man laughs that terrible, mocking laugh of his and I hear him step toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist. What is he doing? I let out a little squeak of surprise and horror as he rests his head on my shoulder, right next to my ear. I feel my face glowing red for the third time today.

"Right, right," he says, "There's nothing at all going on here, Kida. It's just Shiori and me on the rooftop – alone. We're not doing anything at all." Then he pulls me closer to him, but I feel like I'm in the middle of something, because I don't feel his eyes on me at all when he does this – they're always on Kida. They never leave Kida.

I let out a high-pitched scream as I feel his cheek against my neck, which obviously means that he is way too close for comfort, and I pull away forcefully. When I turn to face him, I feel my entire body has gone as red as my face, but I try to ignore that as I yell at him.

"What is your problem? Don't you give a crap about personal space? What's wrong with you! I told you to leave fifty times, and then you do that? You're unbelievable!"

"Sempai!"

"Huh?" I gasp in surprise when I look around to see Kida looking at me with those hard brown eyes. Seriously, I wonder to myself, What kind of history does he have with this man? To make him look so fierce, he would have had to do something extremely harsh, wouldn't he? While I can see him doing such a thing, I have to ask myself, why? What's the point?

"Let's go." Without another word, Kida grabs my wrist and starts pulling me to the door, but we don't get halfway there before the man calls out playfully,

"Aw, Masaomi-kun!" Wait a minute, first-name basis? "You're taking my toy away! Bring her back soon!"

"Toy?" I yell back at him. I try to turn to face him, but I'm still being pulled away by Kida. I follow him with fumes coming out of my ears. Geez, I hate him. Then I see Kida again, and I realize that maybe I don't have it so bad. I mean, I might be mad at him, but there's something going on between the two of them that I don't know about.

"Kida," I say as we reach the bottom of the stairs. I pull away from him finally, forcing him to turn to face me. "What's going on? How do you know him?"  
He looks away from me, the darkness in his eyes having spread entirely over his face. Then he just turns and starts walking away after mumbling something that I didn't hear.

"Hey! Kida!" I call after him, but he doesn't stop. "Kida, I asked you a question! Don't you think it's rude to walk away from your sempai when she asks you a question? Why are you on a first-name basis with him if you hate him so much? What happened?"

"You said _a_ question," he shoots back at me from the other end of the hall, still not answering me. "Not three." Then he leaves without another breath in my direction, except four more words that send a chill down my spine simply because of his tone: "Stay away from him."

Once he's gone, I find myself still watching the empty hallway after him, brooding to myself over an unanswered question. I don't want to be too hard on him, because he is younger than me, but I can't deny that that really annoyed me. I look around at the white walls surrounding me and sigh, leaning against one of them.

This is one of the less used hallways, where people go for classes like welding and whatnot. Sometimes art too, but in my school that's not a very popular class because of the teacher, Ishikawa-sensei. Yes, we have the same last name, but he's not related to me at all, though some people wrongfully assume that he is. I guess it's only reasonable... but not really. To me it's just annoying. They'll call me the Nazi's daughter or something, and I'll have to stop them to explain that there is absolutely no blood relation between that teacher and me. Sometimes, just to send them on a guilt trip for saying that I am a Nazi's daughter, I'll remind them of who I am, and of what happened to my parents only two years ago. I am kind, I know.

I hear someone coming up the stairs to the hallway, and my first thought is that Kida has come back to answer me. I run to the stairs, half-expecting to see him to be running up them again, but am extremely disappointed when I see Ishikawa-sensei coming toward me.

"Ishikawa!" he growls at me. Is that all anyone does when they see me lately? They just growl? "Where are you supposed to be right now?"

"In class," I answer boredly. "What time is it?"

"It's quarter after eleven," he tells me with that same growl in his voice. "Now get going – and don't skip." I start walking past him and roll my eyes as I do.

"What else would I do?" I ask as I put my hands up behind my head. "I mean, I'm already late. Why should I go at all now? What would be the use of that?"

"You insolent little-"

"What are you gonna do?" I ask as I turn around to face him, my eyes showing the same darkness that has been in me for the past two years, "Call my parents? Have fun with that." I start walking down the stairs again, not paying anymore attention to him.

"No," I hear behind me, "But I can kill you."

I stop walking down the stairs and turn to face him, my eyes wide. "What?" I breathe in horror.

"I said I can call the principal." My breath catches in my throat. How did I get "kill you" from that?

I let out a heavy sigh at that and turn again, my hand over my racing heart. "Good," I mutter, relieved. "Good, that's better than what I heard." I continue down the stairs and out the door of the school only five minutes later, avoiding the swarms of people who are still there, looking at the fence that fell from the rooftop.

My eyes meet with one of Kida's friends, and he comes quickly toward me. He's cute, with large blue eyes and short black hair, and he's holding his bag protectively, like he thinks everyone out there is a thief. I don't really blame him, though. He's new to Ikebukuro, and what he's doing is more logical that what I ever do.

"Ishikawa-sempai," he says, "Where's Masaomi? Did he go upstairs?"

"Yeah," I sigh, "He came down in a bad mood, though, and I don't know where he went. He kind of ran away from me."

"Huh?" Ryuu-something-kid asks in surprise. "He ran away? What do you mean? What happened?"

"Nothing much," I mutter, "but I'm going to go home now, so I'll let him know that you were looking for him if I see him again."

"Sure," he says uncertainly as I walk away. I really wish it was dark outside right now.

I don't go straight home, as I usually do, but rather I take a detour to the convenience store first. I guess I should meet up with Kida later for the project thing that we're doing, but I don't think that it's really going to happen. I mean, not after what happened today with... crap, I still don't know his name. Even after I saved his life today, I still don't know his name, and it's not like he took the time to tell me, either. Although, who would expect a selfish person like that to take time to do anything for anyone else in the first place?

I walk into the convenience store and buy some ice cream from the freezer they always have in the store, and I'm walking out just as three men are walking into the store. I shudder as I walk past them, because of the way I see one of them looking at me. It's like he knows who I am, and where I was just now. He thinks I should be dead – no. No way! Stop it, Shiori! This is stupid! I'm being paranoid - or at least, that's what I think at first, but then I remember what happened last time I convinced myself of that. I look back once more at the three men who just walked into the store, and I see one of them looking back at me, so I turn and start walking again, trying to look like I don't know anything.

That's right – I know nothing. Nothing at all! You can't pin anything on me!

I hear the door open a few paces behind me, and instantly turn a corner, heading straight into an alleyway, and I start to run as fast as I can through that alleyway until I reach the street beyond it. It's a more popular area of Ikebukuro, with lights and people everywhere. Right now there's loud music playing, but I can only hear it faintly over all the other noises and distractions here. I stop and rest against the wall of an alley a few minutes later, unsure of what else to do. I mean, I don't even know if they were chasing me in the first place, or if they're with Yagiri Namie at all. If they are, though, that means that they're probably still chasing me. As I saw earlier today, they don't give up that easily.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. What if I'm just being paranoid again? No, not again – last time was completely legitimate, I remind myself. I have to stay vigilant, remember? I can't let my guard down so easily, but at the same time, I feel like I'm going overboard.

"Hey," a rough voice says from behind me, and I turn to see a man at the end of the alley that I just came down, but he isn't one of the others I've seen before. No, I know this man – not personally, but by name and by face, and suddenly I don't know whether to feel threatened or safe. "Who are you?" he asks me.

He has messy blond hair and wears purple sunglasses, as well as a bartender's suit, and has a cigarette in his mouth. I swallow hard, a little nervous now, but I'm glad I'm pretty far away from him. After all, I haven't actually talked to him before, so I don't know what will set him off.

"I-I'm Ishikawa Shiori," I say with a polite, but stiff bow, holding my bag in front of me. "I-I'm sorry if I'm not welcome here, but I... I, um... well, it's hard to explain, really."

He sighs, spewing a whole bunch of cigarette smoke toward me, which I cough away, before he looks toward the busy street again. "Why wouldn't you be welcome here?" he asks. "It's not like this place is mine. I just wanted to know who you were, because I thought I recognized you."

"Where from?" I ask him suddenly, and he turns to look at me again with the same angry eyes as before, but there's something behind the anger there that strikes me, and I feel my own eyes soften when he looks at me. He's not angry... he's more sad than anything. I feel a small smile creeping onto my lips, and I look away. So he is human.

Seeing my expression he turns away from me and leaves after taking his cigarette out and crushing it under his foot. He doesn't bend it, though, as I heard he usually does before he beats someone up, so I'm grateful for that. I stay there for a few more minutes after he's gone, and let out a great sigh. So I was paranoid after all. I guess I have pretty good luck, for not running into those three guys again, if they were chasing me at all. Not only that, but I also got to meet the infamous Heiwajima Shizuo.

However, that could be a bad sign, something foreshadowing a dark future. Ugh, that sounds horrible, but it could be true. After what I found out about my parents, and all this stuff happening to me now, I don't really believe that my luck is that great.

After a few more minutes, I start walking down the alley, opposite the way that Heiwajima-san went, but I'm stopped when I hear voices coming my way. Is it me, or have I heard this man's voice before?

"Yeah, we saw her, but we didn't realize it until she was long gone. I think she knows who we are... yeah, I know."

"Hey, we're on her tail at least," says another man's voice.

Oh, crap! What? How did they find me, after losing me so long ago? OK, maybe it wasn't _so_ long ago, but still, it was a while!

A third one pipes up with, "What was her name again? Ishi... Iki... what was it?"

"Shiori," the second one snaps at him, "Ishikawa Shiori!"

"Will you shut up? I'm on the phone!" That's the first one again, presumably talking to Yagiri Namie. Crap! I look around desperately, thinking that maybe I can find a door or something, maybe leading into the back of a laundromat, but there's only one way out, and that's the way I came. Ugh, but that's the way Heiwajima-san went! Wait a minute, I realize as an idea sparks inside my head. I know it's dirty, but... that is the way he went, and if I leave now, I could probably use him – but that's only if these guys see me before I turn the corner. So, of course, as if to prove that I have such "good" luck, at this very moment, I hear this:

"Hey!"

"There she is!"

"Idiots! She's gonna know we're after her!"

Geez, I should have started running before they came around the corner, but it's not like I can really help how fast these guys walk past alleys. Besides, they were looking for me, weren't they? That means they're going to scour this whole place if they have to.

They start running toward me, and I immediately step back and turn around, letting my instincts take me to where I need to go. Hopefully, I'm not too late and Heiwajima-san will still be close by, but in this crowd there's only a slim chance.

"Get back here!"

I keep running, at what feels like breakneck speed, even with my bag hindering me at my side. I can feel them behind me, hear their breathlessness as they try to catch up to me, but luckily I've been walking and running a lot for the past two years, and I think I can run pretty fast. I've pretty much mastered the art by now.

I dash out of the alley with them still on my tail, and swerve around the corner while holding firmly onto the wall to keep myself from straying too far from it. I see a blond head a few meters in front of me, and head straight for it, weaving through the crowd as much as I can, pushing my way this way and that, hoping to get just close enough for him to see what's going on, and for someone to bump into him to get him just mad enough so that he can do some damage to the men behind me.

Then, before I know it, I'm pushed out of the crowd by an invisible hand, and I slam right into Heiwajima Shizuo, stumbling back from him in horror. Crap! Was this a good plan after all? I look up at him, my eyes wide, but when I remember what I was aiming for in the first place, and I hear the mens' voices yelling at me, because they can now see me through the people that they're almost literally throwing out of their way.

When I see them, and hear their blatant yells, I turn back to Heiwajima and bow deeply, apologizing quickly before I turn again and run. I think he gets the message, though, because a few seconds after I leave, I hear them being pushed into his vicinity as well, and an angry yell echoes all throughout the area. I hate doing that, using him like that, but I didn't really have a choice. I mean, he knows what's going on, or at least I think he does.

I stop a few blocks later, leaning against the wall of a building, not really sure where I am. I'm panting hard, and I bend over to let my body relax, with my hands against my knees to hold myself up. I'm breathless, and my heart is racing behind my ribs.

Seriously, I have no idea what to do. I don't even know where I am, not that I really care right now, but still... it's a little unnerving, even in this situation.

"Shio-chan, there you are!"

I look up to see the same man from the roof standing over me, watching me with the same smirk as always resting easily on his face.

"Don't you ever get tired of intruding on other peoples' lives?" I demand angrily. I honestly don't know if I'm happy or furious at him being here, but agitated seems to be a good way to go. He did ruin my life since I met him, didn't I? Then again, without him, I probably wouldn't be here right now. Did he follow me? Isn't it sad when I don't know whether to be creeped out or excited at that thought? "When did you get here?"

"I was here a few seconds after you came. There's no way I would have gotten here before you."

"What?" I say, still panting, "Why?"

"Well, I had to be there when I pushed you into Shizu-chan, right? Otherwise, it wouldn't have looked natural on your part. It would have looked planned, and of course, you wouldn't want it to seem planned, or else he might get angry at you. Am I right?"

I stand up to face him now, and he smiles cheerfully at me, but there's still that darkness around him that makes me sick. Ugh, why? Why does he always have to be like this? He reads me like a book, and not even because I allow him to. Am I really that transparent, or is he that good?

"I guess I am right," he laughs at me. He goes and leans against the wall next to me, and I lean too, not sure of what else to do. I don't have any plans, and after that, I'm not willing to go back to my apartment, which I can't afford anyway.

"Oh, by the way," he adds casually, "I went to check on you after school, to see if you were still alive -"

"What?" I demand in horror. "Why did you do that?" Really, he doesn't seem like the type to do that at all, but he ignores me and continues.

"All of your stuff was outside on the street. At least, I assumed it was your stuff, because there was a picture in there of your parents and yourself as a little girl."

I feel a wave of dread come over me as I just stare at him, my grey eyes going wide. Suddenly, my body feels heavy, and I sink to the ground, my back still against the wall. I hide my face in my knees as I hug them close to me, suddenly tired and feeling extremely pathetic. How could I not see this coming? My landlord has hated me since the first moment I walked in there, and since then he has been watching me like a hawk, just waiting for an excuse to kick me out. It's just like him to not give me a chance, and being as cruel as he is, of course he would put my stuff out on the street like that – unprotected and free for the world to take.

"I was evicted," I groan as I bury my face into my knees even further. I can't believe this!

**

* * *

**

**Oh noes! What will my dear Shiori do now? OK, there you go, Andrew! Is that dull? I hope not, because I'm kind of aiming for not dull here... O.o... go figure, huh? Ah, but you, my friend, were expecting this because I told you about it... kind of... well, the last part anyway... . Well, I hope you all enjoyed it. ^^

**Another one will come... eventually... probably tomorrow... O.o BE AWARE~!


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

There's a note on my door from the landlord, and I sigh in defeat, leaning helplessly against the wall behind me. I look up at the sky, almost wishing to pray right about now, but I don't, because I know that God wouldn't be able to hear me... would He? He's the creator of all things, the one who gave us life, but somehow, even when He's able to do all that... is He not able to hear me? Even after all these years of agony and torment that this evil world has put me through... would He listen to me?

What am I thinking? I'm going to such an extent just because I got evicted after two weeks of neglecting to get another job to earn my keep? I close my eyes to keep the darkness inside of me, to keep myself calm in these tremulous times. No, it's not that I don't get a job – it's that I can't. People don't want to hire someone who's been bringing bad luck on everyone around them since two years ago. People don't want to hire someone who will bring the "good attitude" of the customers down to a "bad attitude" because of her depressing past, and the dark air that surrounds her from the pain inside. They don't care about me... no one seems to, not even my self-proclaimed "tolerant" landlord.

I slide down the wall in my hallway just as my landlord's door opens and he comes out to see me there, pitiful as can be, in my Raira uniform, because everything else I had was stolen from where he put it on the street outside. He's taking his garbage out, which he does every night on Thursday, which is apparently today.

"Ah, Ishikawa," he addresses me, "You're still here? I thought I kicked you out."

I stand to my feet when he says my name, and I look at the short Japanese man with the most pathetic look I can do at this time. It's not that hard.

"Yanushi-san," I say in a pleading voice, "I'm begging you, please, just give me another chance! I know I wasn't that great of a tenant – I mean, I was always obnoxious toward you, and never gave you the respect you deserve, but I don't have anywhere else to go! I don't have any money for another apartment, and no one will hire me, because of my past!"

"Your past?" he says as he heads down the stairs, "What do I care about your past? Go get a job!"

"You're not listening to me!" I cry agitatedly, but I can tell as he doesn't turn around that he's still not listening. He's probably listening to music or something to tune me out. The more I think that, of course, the clearer I see the cord coming up from his front pants pocket. "Please, Yanushi-san! I don't have anywhere else! I don't even have any friends that I could-"

"If you don't have any money, then just stay with a friend," he says as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. When he turns to face me again, I'm leaning forward, toward him, my hands reaching out for him, as if I am a beggar asking for just one drink of water. I suddenly realize that I'm in a position that I didn't consciously go into in the first place. I've become so pathetic, so pitiful, that I can't even keep my dignity – or what little I had left of it.

"Let me be honest with you, Ishikawa," the old man says to me, his tone heartless. "I don't care what you do, or what you just said to me – and no, I wasn't listening to you. To me, you're nothing but trash. You see this bag here?" He holds up the garbage bag, some of it leaking out of the bottom. "This is what you are to me, and it's what you've been to me ever since you moved in here. I don't know what you've been up to, but I never see any friends over at your place, nor do I ever hear any noise, so I can only assume the worst about why you're never there."

"I'm never there, because I'm trying to look for a job!" I cry, but he shuts me up by holding the bag up again, and I feel a pang in my chest when I see that. I mean, sure, I've been comparing myself to that bag, or an equivalent of that bag, for as long as I can remember, but when someone else does it – and actually means it – a realization comes to mind, and that is that I am indeed a bag of trash. No, I'm the trash inside the bag of trash, which makes me even worse than a cockroach, because they eat trash.

I feel my breath being stolen from me again, for – what is it now, the fourth time today?

I stand up straight now, and look away from the short man, hiding my eyes from him. I don't have tears to cry, for my heart has hardened over the last two years, but I feel like it on the inside. My soul is burning, and my chest is stinging with his unreasonable, yet painfully true, insults. That's it – he won. I'm giving up on this stupid, pointless race to win the pride that is the prize. I wouldn't have won it anyway. He wins.

So, I bow to him one last time, feeling my body shaking with grief and horror as I realize what I'm going to be walking out on in a few seconds, and I hold my book bag close to me, because right now, it's all I have left. Maybe later, I can write my name on it._ Ishikawa Shiori – trash._ That's all I am.

"Thank you," I say to my former landlord, "For letting me live here."

He scoffs as he opens the door for me, his lack of pity overwhelming as he rolls his eyes. "Get out of my sight," he snaps at me. "I don't want to see another stray dog like you around here ever again. Got that? If you're too lazy to pay your rent, then rot in the sewers!"

I realize it's raining outside as I walk away from his cruelty, from his unnecessary insults, and into... what is this? Wilderness? Do I consider the streets wilderness? How sad of me... how pathetic. How pitiful. I can't even support myself on my own, so how can I ever expect someone to want to support me, to keep me in their home? Like he said, I'm a stray dog.

I sit down in an alley somewhere, where I've never gone before, where I know that no one will look for me. No one will find me. I hug myself tightly in the alleyway, trying to meld with the shadows, but it's not working very well. The moon is out tonight, and the stars are blotted out by the bright lights of Ikebukuro – the paradise town of Japan, they say. No. The streets of Ikebukuro are filled only with pain and despair, and humans who call other humans stray dogs, and stray dogs who eat the dead, homeless people they find, because they turn into scavengers. I guess that will be my fate one day – to be eaten by a stray dog after I die a month from now.

I hug myself tighter as the rain gets colder and wetter, the thunder around me louder, the lightning that comes occasionally brighter and more menacing. I have nothing to hide under, or behind, but I have everything to hide from. Not even the darkness will comfort me now, for it, too, has deserted me. I see my skin going white in the cold rain, as my fingers grip my knees close to me for the little warmth that I can offer myself, but it does no good.

It's only been a few days since then, so I can still recall so clearly the warmth that the man on the rooftop offered me that day, when he told me about my parents, when I yelled at him and threw him against the fence only to lean against him seconds later. He was warm... so incredibly warm, and he made me warm, simply because he was there, but now, a dreadful hopelessness fills me – no, consumes me, as I hide my face in my cold knees. I could find nothing when I came back to my apartment building today – even boxes were taken from me. There was only one left, and I had five to begin with. I don't even have a jacket to cover my back, or to use as a pillow.

I have nothing. I have no one. I _am_ nothing. I _am_ no one.

It takes me about three hours to get to sleep, by which time I'm pretty sure I have hypothermia, because I've lost all feeling in my hands and fingers, as well as my feet and parts of my legs. My nose went numb about thirty minutes through.

**XXX**

When I wake up the next morning, I'm surprised to find that I woke up at all, let alone that there is a thick, black blanket covering me. It's incredibly warm as well, and when I lift my head, I realize that it was on something soft and warm too. When I stand up to look around me, I find a black pillow as well, and a few more black blankets beside me, folded neatly and piled there for... my use? This is really weird. I feel like I should have died last night from hypothermia or something, but because of this, I find that I didn't.

I look around curiously, not really sure of what to think of all this. I go to one end of the alley to the next, looking around, as though I'm trying to find the person who did this, but obviously they're long gone. They must have come late last night, seen me there, and... does that mean that every other person who was kicked out of their homes in the city got something like this too? Or is it just me?

I look around again, but still see nothing, and then look back down at the blankets. A jolt of surprise goes through me when I see a note on the ground, beside the pile of neatly folded blankets. I bend down to pick it up, and when I open it again, I don't know what to feel when I see my name at the beginning of a small note. The writing is fairly curvy, and actually looks a little like calligraphy.

_Shiori Ishikawa,_

_I received an anonymous tip that you were alone tonight, and when I saw that it was raining, I made these for you. I hope you like them._

_Celty Sterluson._

I stare at the note in confusion, still unsure of what to think, aside from, Celty? Who's Celty? That isn't a Japanese name... do I know her? Wait, him? It? Wait a minute! I look at the note again, and notice a few weird things about it: First of all, my name is written with my given name first, rather than my first name, so obviously this person was not brought up in Japan. Second, what kind of anonymous tip is that? Who would give a tip like that, and if they did something kind, then why would they keep themselves anonymous... unless they think I'll know who they are if they don't.

It couldn't be my landlord... so maybe... wait, what if it's not a kind gesture? What if it's Yagiri Namie just keeping tabs on me, letting me know that she's watching me, and this Celty Sterluson person doesn't really exist at all? What if this is just a foreign name that she picked up somewhere and decided to use it as a fake name when threatening people. Although, this gesture doesn't seem really threatening. It seems more kind, so why would she do something like this?

Then, for a moment, another option comes to mind – one that would actually know that I was alone last night. The man I met on the roof of my apartment building, and see almost every day at school, and the one who told me yesterday about my eviction with such a casual tone. Obviously, I laugh that option off immediately, not even letting myself think of it more than once. It's such a desperate thought that not even I can imagine it to be plausible.

Anyway, I guess it doesn't matter all that much. I have warmth right now, and I'm alive, thanks to a lack of hypothermia, but even with this kind gesture, I still don't have a roof over my head. I have nowhere to go, and nowhere to stay for the day. I really don't want to go to school and I can smell myself even through this thick blanket. I _really_ need a shower. I sigh and sit down against the wall once more, and look back at the pile of blankets beside me. Whoever this Celty person is, though, he or she or it is obviously kind enough to go out of their way to do this... unless they considered it a job. Either way, though, that doesn't matter either. I'm alive, thanks to this person's warm blankets, even if the point to what they did isn't clear.

**

* * *

**

**OK, so I was tired writing this, so please don't judge too hard... . I thought of editing it, but by the time I got around to it, I was really bored (which is, I guess, now), and I'm in kind of a lazy mood, and whatnot... which isn't a good thing, but you know... these things happen? Of course, you know you can trust a comment to be true when there is a question mark at the end. XP I think I just died. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter too.

**If it makes you feel any better, I did edit the other ones, and I might edit this one later on... if I feel like it. ^^

**Anyway, tell me what you think and whatnot, even if you say it needs some work.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

It's been days since I received the blankets, but none of them have been stolen yet. It's almost like no one else can see them or something, but they seem solid enough to me. They're warm too – very warm. In the daytime, even though fall is coming soon, I can just wear a blanket, and I'll be practically sweating. I'm really grateful to whoever put in that anonymous tip, let alone this Celty person, who apparently made these blankets in less than half an hour, I realize as I'm skimming over the note again.

"..._I saw that it was raining, so I made these for you_."

I don't know how that's possible, but alright. I guess I'll go with it for now, even if it completely lacks the logic that I was raised to believe in – although a lot of things lately have lacked the logic that I was raised to believe in. For instance, the fact that my landlord has hated me since the very first moment he laid eyes on me, and the things that the man on the rooftop told me, and the fact that I refer to this man as "the man on the rooftop". Also, that I know him well enough to be his friend now, without even knowing his name. Yet, he seems to have known about me from the very beginning, and I'm guessing that the first day I met him, he was just asking me my name for kicks and giggles, rather than legitimately not knowing what it is. He was just putting on a show, as always. I'm guessing he's not really good at anything aside from manipulation, but if that's the case, then he doesn't really need to be good at anything else. If he wants to steal something, he can just get someone else to do it for him. If he wants a piggy-back ride, I'm pretty sure he could blackmail someone into giving him said piggy-back ride. If there's one thing that man is good at, it's manipulation.

Now, I'm sitting in another alley, because I had to move from my previous alley to a new one, because of the people who are constantly looking for me. I haven't seen the man from the rooftop in the past few days, but I can guess that he's looking for me. He always seems to be doing that, even though I know it's a fairly conceited thought, and it's not really fair on his part. I mean, he must have much better stuff to do than look for me, right? It's not like I'm special or anything – I'm trash, like my landlord said. Nothing more than that.

For the last half hour – of at least what I think has been a half hour – my new home has been behind a large building, and so far no one has come back here to kill me, so I figure I'll stay for a little while. Honestly, I've been halfway considering going back and suing that son of a – whoa, what was that – for all he's worth, because I don't think it's really illegal for him to do that, is it? To kick me out so quickly, without even talking to me first, and then to call me trash – what kind of monster is he? Right now, though, I'm content to stay here, alone, without any people or animals to disturb me... except for the occasional rat, but they don't really seem to notice me. They just scuttle around, looking for food that they'll never find.

Speaking of which, it's been two days since my last meal, and my stomach has long stopped asking me for anything. My mouth is dry, and my body is weak, and I think I'm probably long past dehydrated by now. Actually, I guess I shouldn't be complaining too much, because yesterday, I was approached by a large black man, who had a Russian accent, asking me if I'd like some sushi. When I said I didn't have any money, he said it was alright, and he would give me some for free. Actually, now that I look at the change in my pocket, I probably could have afforded something small – but he didn't give me anything small. He gave me a full platter, and said that the person who informed him of me must care about me a lot... even though he had no idea who asked him to feed me.

Now I just have to get that anonymous person to find a place of shelter for me. Wouldn't that be nice?

I look around the place where I am, as if seeking some kind of sudden paradise to appear, which would pull me from this personal Hell, but I find nothing – as usual. There's no doorway leading to another world, through which I can escape and live a different life; no limo that's willing to take me to some luxurious hotel, courtesy of a beautiful, rich young man who saw me suffering out here alone. Well, with all the weird things happening lately, it's not really that far-fetched, is it? I manage to trick myself for a moment, thinking that maybe he was the one who sent me the black blankets, and made that Russian guy feed me, and give me a bottle of water (which I have already finished).

However, I'm pulled back to reality when I hear someone walking by here, grumbling something in annoyance. I see their arm toss something away, but I'm not sure what it is, even as the sunlight glints off of the glass at just the right angle, blinding me. I wince and cover my eyes as I listen to it hit the ground, glass against concrete. It doesn't break, but I hear it rolling steadily toward me, at which point I open my eyes to see a tall bottle rolling along the ground, unbroken and untouched. It's full of liquid that I think I recognize as sake, which is sloshing around inside the apparently unopened bottle. It stops at my foot, and I stare at it for a few more seconds before picking it up and reading the label. It is indeed sake.

I've never tried it before, I realize as I think back on all the alcohol I've drunk before – which is absolutely none. I was pretty sheltered before my parents died, and afterwards I just wasn't interested. Now, though, I realize that I've found my door to an alternate paradise – one that I have never experienced before. It's my limo, my unicorn, my other end of the rainbow. It's my escape from this terrible existence I have now.

"Perfect timing," I mutter as I break it open by slamming the neck of the bottle against the concrete beside me. It shatters, and I manage to pull up the bottle quick enough so that nothing leaks out. I take a swig from the now broken bottle, and feel the liquid burning the back of my throat as it goes down, and the mild pain that comes from that actually feels better than I thought it would. My hunger even subsides somewhat. When I pull it away from my mouth, I let out a great sigh, the back of my throat itching with the leftover feelings from this strong sake.

After a few more swigs of this new and wonderful drink, I start to laugh at absolutely nothing, feeling a lot more bubbly than I have in awhile. I stand up and start to walk away from my little hiding spot, but I my balance is off, and I fall against the wall. I laugh at myself stupidly, and take yet another swig. When I lower the bottle next, I see a vague shape at the end of the street. It's brown and black mostly, but there's some light blond around the head and wrists. Do I know that person?

As they come closer, I start to feel rather aggressive, like I want to fight, because I know I can. I can take him! Who does he think he is? I can take him down in two seconds flat. Just watch.

Finally, now that he's close enough, I recognize him as the guy I see on the roof at school almost every day... when I went there. Now, with this magic drink, I can see how useless it is! Whoopie! Yucky school down the drain!

"Hello, Shiori," he says to me, and I just stare in response. He's standing in front of me now, looking at me with a pair of brown eyes that I can see pretty clearly, now that he's so close. I laugh in that stupid, drunken way of mine, and stumble forward. I'm about to fall over, but I just end up bumping into him. I almost fall into the wall again, but I feel his hands on my waist, holding me in place. "Are you drunk?" he asks me in amusement, his eyes going toward the bottle.

"No!" I say, "I'm jus' really tired. I've been walkin' 'roun' all day, tryin' ta get rid of people who are tryin' ta kill me! Do you know how fusratin tha' ish?"

"You're drunk," he accuses, but he doesn't look like he's mad at me – actually, he looks like he's laughing at me for the fiftieth time since we've known each other. "Where did you get that sake?"

"An' wher' were you?" I ask him suddenly as I lean more of my weight against him. "I was all 'lone for the las' tree days, an' you... you weren' there. Why?"

He just starts to laugh, and holds me at arm's length, where he can see me clearly, and he laughs even harder. Suddenly, he lets go of me, and I fall against the wall and slide down, so that I'm sitting clumsily on the ground again.

"I's not funny!" I say to him as I try to stand up again, but fail miserably. He just laughs harder at that. "Heyyy!" I yell at him. "I was alone! You didn' come look for me, like you were s'pose' to."

"Shio-chan," he laughs, "Did you really expect me to come look for you? I don't care about what happens to you - I've only known you for three days."

"Five," I correct him, holding up what looks to be five fingers... wait, is that five? I count them one by one, but I get tired halfway through and stop at one. Still, that comment seems to puncture a hole in my chest, and I look down to see if it actually happened, but everything seems to be there, so I look back up at him, pouting. "You're mean," I accuse. He chuckles as he comes toward me, that same amused smirk on his face as was there only seconds ago - and days ago. It seems to suit him.

He crouches down in front of me and wipes some excess hair out of my face with gentle fingers, and I feel the blood rush to my face once again. It seems to do a lot of that lately.

"You're a very funny drunk," he tells me.

I push him away now and manage to stand up enough to go back to the wall of the building. I almost fall down, but I manage to hold myself up with weak arms, which won't support much weight, so I just end up leaning against it. When he looks at me again, I glare at him and point the bottle at him, which just makes him look like he's grin broadly.

"You know what?" I say to him in what I consider to be a threatening voice, but I can see the smile on his lips broadening with every word I say. "I'm tired of your li'l jokes, and your _stupid_ face! Jus' take them both an' ge-out! Jus' go 'way!" I swing the bottle toward him now, but he just stands up and chuckles, not feeling threatened in the least.

"Shiori," he complains playfully as he walks toward me. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as he stands in front of me again, putting one hand against the wall behind me, making me feel trapped and a little awkward. "Just a moment ago, you complained about me not coming to see you."

I'm ignoring him now, though, not listening to even one word he's saying, because I have caught sight of his eyes, and they are boring into me as always. Before I know it, my hand is on his face, my fingers gingerly caressing the skin right beneath his eye. He looks a little surprised by this, but he doesn't move away. Maybe he wants to see what I'll do next, or something like that... he always seems to be intrigued by peoples' behaviour. Why? What's so special about people?

"Your eyes..." I mutter slowly, and he smiles discreetly now. "They're so mean, but at the same time... pretty. You're so pretty, guy from the rooftop-pah." I decide to add a little sound effect there for some reason, but I'm not entirely sure why. "Why are you so cra-ule?" I ask him a few seconds later, for some reason deliberately mispronouncing the word, _cruel_. He smiles at me again, but doesn't answer. "Why do you always jus' play with me?"

Still, he doesn't answer. Why is he just watching me? Answer me, I think to him, but I don't say it out loud. Instead, something comes to my mind, and I frown deeply, my heart welling up inside me, as it always does right before I write.

Then, I find myself muttering to him, as my hand moves across his face, "A sad heart with the eyes of a demon speaks and walks like a demon. It manipulates and teases like a demon. It even laughs like a demon, and also like a demon, it makes people wonder. It makes them question its values and ethics, and whether it has emotions, or is lost forever. The anguish of a man makes this heart laugh with ecstasy, but simultaneously there is love. That is why it laughs at the pain man feels. The love inside of this twisted, misunderstood heart is what makes it laugh, and torment the poor creatures who are undeserving of its love. This deep, deep love that makes him laugh."

I stare at him for a few more moments, and he stares back at me, his expression a strange one that I haven't ever seen on anyone before, and would never expect to see on him. It's a half-smile, an almost gentle smile, but his eyes are suddenly tired. They're... sad? Suddenly, he pulls his hand away from beside my head, where it rested against the wall only seconds ago, and he starts to laugh again. I can't help but smile at that sight, but I'm not really sure why.

Suddenly, I wonder this to myself: How can I know a man so well, yet know nothing of his name?


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

My head is throbbing when I wake up again later, the sun beating down on me like never before. The light from the sun is way too bright, and it's blinding me even through my closed eyes and the arms that I have put over my face. This morning when I woke up, I found myself on a park bench, on which I am still lying because of the light that makes my head throb so painfully. It's not just the light either. There are little kids all around here that make more noise than a wood chipper. If you had a room full of little kids and a wood chipper, which would be turned on, the kids would win when it comes to sound.

Uuuugggghhhhh... my head...

I don't know how long it's been since I woke up, and I certainly don't know how long it's been since I passed out in the alley... wait, was that guy still there when my head thunked on the ground? I don't know. Maybe... for all I know, he was the one who pushed me to the ground in the first place – it seems like something he would do.

I have my black blankets over me – the ones I got from that Celty person, who apparently made them, which I don't believe – and they're covering me perfectly, except that they won't cover my head, so I have to do that with my arm, while the rest of my body is hidden from the world. Am I still wearing my Raira uniform? Probably. I don't have anything else to wear.

Ugh, I don't want to think – I just want to lay here and go back to sleep, but I can't do that, because of all this freaking noise! I groan in anguish and agony, and go into the fetal position on the bench, holding my aching head tightly. Is this what they call a hangover? It's so painful! Geez, that just goes to show how useful getting drunk is in the first place. If the only thing to come out of it is _this_ then I never, _ever_, want to do it again. Never!

"Excuse me," I hear above me, and I raise my arm to see a police officer and a tall, straight-looking man behind him who reminds me of a pencil.

"What?" I groan. "Can't a girl have a nap without being disturbed?"

"Can't a girl have a nap somewhere else?" the man behind the officer asks, and I glare at him with tired eyes. The officer does so too.

"I'll handle this, sir," he says, putting his hand up to silence the guy. Then he turns back to me and says, "There are children here, miss. Their parents get nervous when they see someone like you just lying here, and they wonder. Do you want people to wonder about you?"

"I don't care," I say as I roll over and take my blanket with me. I try to put it over my head, but instead just pull it up off of my feet. Ugh, how annoying! This Celty person really underestimated my length. "Let them judge. It's not like I have anything left to feel ashamed for."

"Miss," the officer continues. He doesn't care about me either, I think to myself as I continue to face the back of the bench. I hear him bend down to my level, and he says quietly, regretfully, "I'm sorry, but I can't let you stay here. As an officer of the law, it's my job to enforce the rules, and the rules are that this is a family park. The people around here can't have anyone just roaming around – it's for the sake of the kids, you know?"

I don't answer him. My head is still throbbing, and now my body is sore too, from sleeping on this bench.

He continues in another moment. "If you don't get up now, I'm going to have to escort you out of the vicinity."

Suddenly, I turn around to look at him again, and see that his face is only about a foot away from mine. He's looking at me with sad eyes, like he feels pity for me – great, I think to myself sarcastically. More pity. That's totally what I need right now.

"I'll only let you escort me out of here on one condition," I say to him, and he suddenly looks confused.

"Let me...?" he wonders under his breath, but I'm not paying attention. I know that what I said just now was not exactly what he was aiming for when he said, "I'm going to _have to_ escort you out of the vicinity," but honestly I don't care. I just want him to stop pitying me, so I confuse him. Is that good logic? Maybe not.

"I want a lot of food, a lot of water, and a place to stay for a temporary amount of time – and the room you put me in has to be soundproof. Today, I discovered that I hate kids," I tell him, but he just stares at me. Then he looks annoyed as he stands up and reaches to his back pocket. I'm assuming it's for a gun, and maybe even hoping.

"Oh, I can find you a good place where there is plenty of food, lots of water, a roof over your head, and no kids." He pulls the thing out of his back pocket, and I'm irritated before he even comes toward me with a pair of silver handcuffs. I glare at him as he forces me to sit up, making me wince as my blood goes from my head to my toes in about two seconds flat, resulting in a blood rush. I groan in pain and put my head into my lap, restricting him momentarily from locking the second cuff onto my wrist.

"Miss," he says sternly, "I need you to put your head back up, so I can see what I'm doing. Miss," he adds when I don't move, but I don't care. I really, really couldn't care less about what he's saying right now, and I don't want to hear it anyway. I know where he's going to take me, but I still don't care. In fact, I would rather go there than stay here, and I can barely walk anyway, so it would be better for him to drive me there in a great big, fancy cruiser. "I need you to sit up." He's getting annoyed, so I sit up, looking away dramatically as I shove my hands in his face, bringing my wrists up clearer, so he can see what he's doing.

I have nothing to lose, and nothing to gain. So why would I resist? Plus, putting me in a jail cell might actually protect me from the people trying to kill me, but that's not guaranteed. They found out where I lived, so why not find out I'm in jail too? For all I know, this guy could be one of them, but even so – what have I got to lose, aside from this body? My life is already down the drain.

"Please," I say mockingly, "Be gentle. I would hate for my porcelain skin to be tainted by those horrible cuffs of yours. After all, I don't want to go to jail looking like some kind of delinquent. Oh, by the way," I add as I look back at him, to see him grumbling something under his breath. I seem to be getting to him. "Do you have any painkillers? I had a lot of sake last night, and I kind of overdid it."

"A hangover, huh?" he grumbles, but it sounds more like he's laughing at me again. Geez, what a pain. Is that all people do these days when they meet me? Lately, it's just been either a laugh or a growl, so that must mean that I'm either really funny or really annoying... or both. Anyway, I seem to agitate people. Even Heiwajima Shizuo, whom I have never talked to before, growled at me. Then again, I can't see him smiling at anyone.

Suddenly, the man behind him pipes up again, disregarding the first warning he received from the officer. "So, you're just like all the others, huh? A drunken teen who ran away from home and decided to crash here for the night." He laughs as he says it, like it's some kind of joke or something, but the officer ignores him as he helps me to my feet – or actually, he doesn't help me, but I call it helping anyway. I'm in a weird mood right now.

"Yeah, that's right, pencil-neck," I say to the man behind the officer as I'm walking past him. "I, Ishikawa Shiori, ran away from home because my parents are just too unfair for me! So, I decided to kill them. Then, I strung their remains all over your house, and I made sure that your kids saw everything! Then, I ate your kids!" I laugh maniacally here, as if I'm only half here, but I don't care. I feel good right now, and that's all that matters to me. I feel great, and no one can take that away, even the officer taking me to the jail cell, or the assuming pencil. Even Yagiri Namie can't make me angry right now, or fearful of anything, because the only thing I fear is dying the way she wants me to die.

I don't want to die like that. To be murdered – to be killed by any other hands but my own – would show that I have someone special enough to me that can pull that trigger. It would be someone I trust enough to put my life in their hands. Obviously, Yagiri Namie is not that person. Therefore, suicide is the only way to go, but I don't want just any suicide. I'm still undecided on that subject.

As I duck my head under the roof of the police cruiser, I see the pencil's face in right before the door closes, and I laugh out loud. He's horrified. After all, what I said to him was terrible.

**XXX**

When we get to the police station, I'm immediately put into a cell, and I joke with the officers there, "What? No trial? No interrogation? What happened to the law system around here!" None of them answer me, of course, but I don't care. I really don't. I really, really don't.

When someone comes to bring me a lunch, though, I eat it up immediately, not sparing even a crumb for the mice and the other various rodents that are bound to be around here. When I'm done I sit down on a bed and look at the toilet in the corner. At first I think that maybe complying with that officer so easily was a mistake, but then I remember where I am and how I got here in the first place. I smile and lay down on the bed. It's a dark smile, of course, seeing as I can't really smile happily right now, even if I think of everything I have to lose – wait, nothing! I probably won't be able to smile happily for as long as I live the rest of my life, so maybe I should start thinking about how to die in here... I think they'll let me out sooner or later, if I ever get bail or something, but even if that happened, where would I go?

I'm not going to school anymore, ever since my eviction – poor Kida will probably have to do another year because of me, because that project thing is really important when it comes to earning enough credits – and I have no friends, no relatives, and I'm not willing to go straight to Yagiri Namie unless she lets me choose how I want to die, which I doubt would ever happen. As for the guy from the roof... I really have to wonder what his problem is. He left me completely alone again, and still didn't tell me his name. What a douche bag. Whatever. It doesn't matter now, because I have a roof over my head, and I'm probably not going to see him again as long as I don't have bail to get out of here.

"Hey, girl," I hear from the bars at the front of my cage, and I look up to see the officer from the park looking down at me. "What's your name?"

"I yelled it out at the park," I tell him obnoxiously, "Why don't you remember it?"

"I don't have time for your games," he tells me. "Just tell me what it is."

I sit up in my rock-hard bed now, and sigh as I look at him with dead grey eyes. "My name," I say slowly, so he can understand, "Is Ishi... kawa... Shio... ri. Understand, _Officer_?"

He writes it down on a notepad, and then looks up at me after a short pause. "So you're the one whose parents were killed in that explosion two years back?"

Does everyone know about it? "Yes," I answer him heartlessly.

He stares at me momentarily, and then shakes his head in pity. "You've really gone down hill, haven't you? Last time I saw you was on the news right after that happened, when you were reciting a poem. Now you're living on the streets?"

"No," I say angrily. I remember that day – the day the reporters came to my house. Those freaking obnoxious people wouldn't leave me alone, so I just wrote a poem and left. "I was evicted recently, but that's none of your concern, is it Officer? Your only interest is the law."

Again, he shakes his head, but this time he sighs and turns away from me too. "It's time for your phone call," he says as he walks away from me, into another room. "Just so you know."

"I think you know my answer to that," I grumble as I turn over onto my side and put my arm under my head. Almost as soon as I say that, though, I hear footsteps coming toward me again, but I don't turn until I hear a voice, saying, "Ishikawa? You have a phone call."

I turn around and raise an eyebrow at the officer who came to see me just moments ago, and I see that he looks like he's in a better mood. He seems to like doing things for people, and not against them. I haven't seen a person like that for a long time, and I suddenly realize that it sickens me, but I don't say anything to him until I get to the phone, and even that is just a bland, "Thank you."

I pick up the phone and ask a hesitant, "H-Hello?" and for a moment, I hear nothing. Then, however, an annoying, energetic voice comes over the phone.

"Shio-chan! How are you?"

"Great, it's just my stalker," I grumble into the phone, and I hear him laugh on the other end of the line. "OK, first question: how did you know that I was taken to the police station? Second, what is your freaking _name_?"

The officer beside me gives me a weird look, but I just turn away from him, going back to my conversation with the mysterious man from the rooftop.

"My name?" the man says mockingly. "Hmmm... let's think... oh! I know! If you can guess my name, I won't kill your baby!"

I just stare at the phone before I slam it against my head, which he seems to notice, because he laughs loudly. The cop beside me yells at me to stop that, and I ignore him, but continue talking with the man I will now refer to as Rumpelstiltskin. Then I sigh into the phone, and bow my head in despair.

"Seriously," I groan, "How did you find me?"

"I have my sources," he says. "Besides, the park I left you at is right across from a window in my office. I have many windows."

"I see," I mutter. Then, I feel stupid for asking, and I don't really know why I feel compelled to say this in the first place, but, "Is that why you didn't stay with me, then?"

"No," he says, sounding a lot more amused than usual. I frown deeply at that. I really hate this guy. "I thought you were smarter than this, Shio-chan! You should know why I didn't stay with you – remember our little conversation last night when you were drunk?"

"We had a conversation?" I ask, horrified. I feel my eyes shift from left to right nervously, not really sure what to think now. Crap, what happened last night? Please don't tell me I did anymore than talk to him!

"Oh, it seems you don't remember. Well, you wrote me a little poem – or at least, it sounded like it was supposed to be a poem."

"What?" I demand loudly, and again the officer beside me gives me a look as my face goes beat-red. "I didn't... I wouldn't... What are you talking about?"

He bursts out laughing, apparently having the most fun of his life. I can just see him spinning around in a chair, the phone cord slowly wrapping around him and his blatant insanity. Then, it would snap and I would be forced to stay here without anymore answers, unless he comes to see me.

" '_A sad heart with the eyes of a demon speaks and walks like a demon_'... you know, you do your best writing when you're drunk, Shio-chan. Has anyone ever told you that?"

I'm fuming now, my hand shaking and sweating so much that I can barely hold the receiver, when suddenly the cop beside me looks at me and tells me I don't have much time left with a motion of his hand. I groan and turn back to the freak on the other end of the phone.

"Why did you call me?" I demand loudly, my voice cracking slightly in embarrassment. He laughs again, and now I can even hear the chair swaying back and forth in the background.

"I just thought I'd say hello," he says. "I hope you're enjoying your new life in a jail cell. Is it comfortable?"

"I don't have time for your stupid jokes!" I yell at him, and slam my free hand on the desk in front of me. The officer beside me gives me another look, and I have to turn away, pretending I didn't notice. "Now tell me why!"

"Awww," he says, "I don't like you when you're sober. You're so mean." He pauses, chuckling to himself, and then tells me. "Alright, alright, I have a proposal for you. Now, I'm usually not this kind, so you should feel special – but not too special – because I am willing to give you a place to stay."

I just stare at the phone, unsure of what to think. "Excuse me?" I ask bluntly. "_You_ are willing to give me a place to stay? _You_, the most selfish, unkind person I know?"

"The only person you know," he corrects me, and I frown at him again.

"You're missing the point," I say. "What I mean is, I can't trust you. After all, you won't even tell me your name, and every time I ask, you just avoid the question!"

"Not true," he argues with a playful pout in his voice. "I usually give you a stupid answer."

"It's the same thing!"

He sighs into the phone, and I hear the chair going back and forth again. "Do you want a private bathroom or not? Oh, and if it makes you feel any better, I don't live there."

"That doesn't make me feel good at all," I tell him angrily. "It's not you raping me that I'm worried about!" Now the officer's eyes go wider than dinner plates, probably because he heard that out of context. "I don't want-"

"I know," he interrupts me. "That's why I said I don't live there. I live here, and this is where Namie-san is all the time. She likes to spend time here when she isn't doing anything useful – which is most of the time. My point being that unless I tell her, she has no idea where you are."

"Did you just call her useless?" I ask, and smile slightly at that. I don't know why, but hearing her being called useless is kind of nice, even if it is coming from this guy.

"Ishikawa," the officer beside me says, looking at his watch. "Your time is up."

"Aw, that's too bad," Rumpelstiltskin says mockingly. "I guess I don't have time to tell you that I'd pay your bail too."

"As if you have the money to do that. You're only – what? - twenty-three?"

"Ding ding ding!" he cries enthusiastically. "Give the lady a prize! Although then you should take it away, because she was wrong with the first part! I do have the money to do that, and I also have the ability to take that money there and pay your bail."

I hesitate for a moment, but then look at the officer. "Why are you doing this? You know, I still don't-" _Click_.

What the...? I look at the phone, holding the receiver away from me as I stare at it in annoyance. Then, turning to the officer I ask, "Was that you? Or is it a timer thing?"

"It's a timer," he tells me. "Sorry to cut you off like that. It sounds like you're pretty close to that person." I feel my face burn again, and I laugh nervously while rubbing the back of my head.

"Not really," I say, "I actually just met him about a week ago, and I still don't know his name. We're not really friends either – more like acquaintances... or enemies... or something like that."

The officer laughs as he escorts me back to my cell, and as he opens the door he says, "Well, I don't know about you, but my enemies don't normally offer me a place to stay when I'm in need."

I step into the cell and sit on the rock-hard bed again, looking around at the toilet. I can only wish for a private stall again, but I honestly think it doesn't really matter for someone who has no pride anymore anyway, and I know the cop guy is right – enemies don't offer enemies places to stay, but if they did it would be really suspicious. Plus, I know this guy is friends with Yagiri Namie. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, but honestly, I can't stay here forever. Even if I wanted to, they would kick me out eventually.

Seriously... I don't know what to think anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

I just stare at him from across the table, that grinning face really getting on my nerves – as always. He just came by today, _five days_ after I was put into this hell-hole. He called me yesterday too, to say that he was coming in the next five minutes, but if he was, then why call? Why does he always do this to me?

"How many times a day do you break a promise?" I ask him, and he just continues to smile at me.

"Sorry," he says cheerfully, but I glare at him, knowing that he isn't in the least bit sorry. "Anyway, I came to bail you out today. You should be grateful, instead of just staring at me like that. I was hung up yesterday, that's all."

"Funny," I say sarcastically. "Was that after, or before you hung up on me?"

He shrugs, and then looks away from me with those playfully cruel brown eyes, looking thoughtful. "I believe it was after," he says.

Suddenly, I heave a great sigh and slam my head on the table, right between my arms, which are lying in front of me. "It wasn't a real question," I groan, my voice muffled by the table under my face, but he laughs at me. "It was rhetorical..."

"Shiori," he says softly, making my face heat up slightly at the way he says my name. He always says it the same way – like it's some kind of delicious fruit, and it's extremely embarrassing. I can't mention it, though, because I know he's just going to make fun of me if I do. "Did you forget why I'm here?"

_Yes._

"No," I say as I sit up again, looking at him with agitated grey eyes, my black hair sticking to my face because of the way I was on the table. "Now tell me the details of this apartment thing. How do I know I can trust you?"

"Wow, getting right to the point," he says, his smooth voice assailing my ears once more in that mocking tone of his. He leans back in his chair, like this is some kind of casual business meeting, and I find it weird that he can create such an atmosphere for himself here, of all places. "Well, I haven't told Namie about your location yet, so why would I tell her now?"

"I don't know that," I challenge him. "Besides, I don't even know if we're friends or foes at this point, so tell me why I should trust you."

"You're right," he says, "You shouldn't trust me. I'm a horrible person, and you will likely hear that from more than just Kida Masaomi. However, it doesn't look like you have a choice." He leans toward me and puts his elbows on the table. "It's either rotting in here for as long as there's no one to pay your bail, or if I do pay your bail, but you decide to stay away from me, you could rot on the streets. However, if you come with me, you will have a comfortable home and someone to check up on you now and then – and I promise not to tell Namie where you are."

I just stare at him, and then look away from those penetrating eyes. They're spears coming into my soul, taking in everything I'm thinking, everything I want. They're sucking the life out of me, but at the same time, they're offering me my only way out. He's right – I have no choice but to go with him, even if I have no idea what his motives are.

When I look back at him, I say, "You're right – you're a horrible person, but I'm stuck in here because of you, so I might as well get out of here because of you. There's just one more thing that I want to know."

"What's that?" he asks.

"Why? Why are you so willing to get me out of here?"

He smiles at me again. "Didn't I just finish telling you that you don't have a choice? Whether you trust me or not is irrelevant right now. Same as whether you know my name or not. I told you that I would be staying at my office most of the time, and it's not like you ever address me by my name anyway."

I glower at him. "That's because I don't know it," I say.

He laughs, and throws his hands up into the air as he leans back in his chair, yelling out, "Waiter!" He beckons over a security guard, who looks at him like he should be the one in the cell – which is probably true. The guard comes over anyway, and I roll my eyes as the man in front of me says, "I would like to pay this girl's bail. How much will it be?"

What a jerk-off, I think as I watch him stand up and walk out of the room as another guard comes over and puts handcuffs on me. I roll my eyes at this, thinking it's really not necessary. I mean, I was brought here for sleeping on a park bench, not killing someone.

A little while later, the man comes back with his hands in his pockets, walking behind the cop from when I was arrested. I sit up on my bed when I see them coming, almost hopeful that this guy didn't have enough money.

"This man paid your bail," the officer says as he unlocks the cell door. "He says you two are really old friends."

"Yeah," I say as I walk out of the cell with the man behind me. Then, I turn to the man and say, "Wait outside for me. I want to thank the officer for everything he's done for me." I smile at him, and when I know he's going to refuse, I glare threateningly in his direction.

"Alright, alright," he chuckles. "I'll meet you outside then, Shio-chan. Just don't run out the back."

As soon as he's gone, I turn to the officer and say quietly, "I know you had a conversation with him. Did he tell you his name?"

The cop looks surprised for a moment before he looks at me like I've gone insane. "Um, no," he says slowly. "I thought you two were old friends. Shouldn't you know that by now?"

"He's not an old friend," I say honestly, but then I sigh and start walking away from him back to the Nameless One. I feel awkward just asking that and walking away, as I imagine all the assumptions that must be popping into the nice officer's head right about now. I don't really care, though, seeing as he's not an important character in this story – wait, what?

I really hate not knowing this guy's name.

When I step out of the police station, I see him standing in front of the doors, waiting for me. I don't know if I'm relieved or annoyed that he stayed, but he's there, and now I'll be able to live in at least a small apartment, if any. He could just as easily take me straight to Yagiri Namie, my foe without a face, whereas he seems to be my foe without a name. Yet I'm spending more time with him than I have with anyone else in the past two years.

"So," he says as we start walking, "Did you find out?"

"Find what out?" I ask, feigning innocence, but he knows. Of course he knows. He knows everything that goes on in my life. Why not? There isn't much.

"My name," he prompts me, and I sigh.

"No."

"Well, good, because this is too much fun to just end here."

"Yeah," I grumble, "It sure is." I look around and then back at him, wondering what kind of car he would have, but when we start walking down the sidewalk I'm a little disappointed. All I've been doing so far is walking, and now he wants me to walk more? I really hope he's insane, because if he's not, then he is definitely twisted. "We're walking?" I demand, and he turns and looks at me with a smirk on his face.

"Yep," he says.

"Why?"

"I want to," he says, "and I don't have a car."

"Why?" My voice has gotten darker now, with the more annoyance that has assailed me.

"Is that all you ever say?" he asks me. He stops walking now and pinches my cheeks, a smile coming to his face as he stretches the skin and watches as my face is contorted into an odd shape. "Why are roses red? Why are violets blue? Why is Shiori Shiori? Why does a rose have to be rose, even if it's called by any other name?"

"Ugh, shop dah!" I complain as I grab his hands in mine and try to pull them away from my face before he can do anymore damage. He doesn't let go, but just keeps pulling, spouting yet more stupid "why" questions from western fairy tales and plays, and sometimes twisting them to put a "why" in front of it. A few minutes later he stops, and I rub my newly red cheeks, grimacing in pain.

"Why do you always have to-?" I begin, but when he gives me a significant look, I step away from him and mutter, "Nevermind," while holding my face protectively.

"That's better," he sighs as we make our way through the streets of Ikebukuro to this mysterious place of his that he described to me as – actually, I don't think he described it to me at all. How annoying.

It turns out to be another apartment building, but the apartments themselves looks pretty expensive from the outside. There are a lot of windows and balconies that people seem to like, but I'm not really interested in those. They make me feel like I'm susceptible to constant attack, which I actually am, and therefore they just make me nervous. He opens the door to the building with a key on his keychain, so I have to assume that he comes here a lot – or something. Wait, does he live here? No, he said he lives at his office – practically. I don't know if that was an expression, or if he was being serious. I never know with him.

He takes me to the fifth floor, where from there is a balcony hanging over the edge, and a large glass door leading to said balcony. I feel uncomfortable looking out there, but he seems to enjoy it. I can imagine him as a person who likes to watch others, like he does with me. His eyes are always saying _something_. Most of the time he leaves it up to me to find out what, and other times he doesn't even let me figure it out, and just leaves it to my imagination. It's more like a condo than an apartment, which actually makes it better than what I expected. The colours are modest and tame – like brown and tan – in most places, but when I walk into the living room (the largest room in the condo) I find a crimson red ceiling and walls, and only the carpet and furniture are those same modest and tame colours I saw everywhere else. There's also a bookshelf along the far wall, but it doesn't look like it's been nailed in place.

He walks out onto the balcony as soon as we get here and leans over the railing, making me nervous, so I join him, looking down on the sidewalk and the street below. It's weird, but somehow I don't feel awkward, coming to a place like this with him. I mean, sure, it's unfamiliar, and he's letting me stay here on my own, but I don't feel like I'm intruding at all. Actually, it feels oddly welcoming.

"So," I say as I hold my hair, which is blowing in a faint breeze, out of my face and lean against the railing with my back to the people below. "Is this your place?"

"I bought it," he tells me, and I just stare at him. Geez... what is he, rich or something? When he sees my expression, he smirks and says, "You'd be surprised at how much an informant makes every year. People will pay a lot of money just for someone to tell them something about what's going on in this city."

"You're an informant?" I enquire as my mind goes back to the first night that I discovered that people were actually following me. They mentioned an informant, and as far as I know they were talking about me. I lean my head back and look at the sky, letting my arms hang below the railing as I lean against the only thing holding me up. For a moment I wonder if it will give out, like the fence did at school, but then I remember that no one but he knows that I'm here. However, that thought doesn't necessarily make me feel all that safe, considering it is _him_. "So you're the one they were talking about," I mutter, and I feel his eyes on me once more, but I don't return his gaze, and I don't answer the questions that he's silently throwing at me.

"Shio-chan," he says suddenly, and only now do I turn my head to look at him. His eyes are laughing at me again, and that same smirk he always has is on his face. I have to admit, it's starting to grow on me, that smirk of his. It annoys me most of the time, but that's only when I'm in a bad mood, which has been most of the time lately, but now that I have a roof over my head – at least until he turns me over to Yagiri Namie – I actually find it kind of cute... in an evil way. It suits him.

"What would you do if I suddenly knocked you over the railing, and made you fall to your death?"

I stand up almost immediately, staring at him with wide eyes.

"What?" I demand. "Why would you ask that? You know what I think about falling from a building! It's disgusting!"

"I know," he says calmly, "but what would you do?"

"I'd drag you down with me!" I snap at him. "I wouldn't let you go free after something like that! What kind of moron do you think I am?"

"I was just wondering," he says as he turns and heads back into the condo, and I go back with him, closing the glass door behind him. Geez, he wasn't seriously thinking of doing that, was he? Maybe he really is insane. When we get back inside, we end up in the living room, and enter the kitchen, where he puts a set of keys on the table as he turns around to face me.

"These are for the apartment," he says as he takes off his fur-lined coat and puts it across the back of a chair that he has pulled out, and now sits in after getting a drink from the fridge. "I come here sometimes, but mostly I just stay with Namie at my office. Basically, there's everything you need, including TV and internet, but I don't have a computer, so the internet is useless."

"Then why do you have it?" I ask blandly, but he ignores me as he takes a sip from the bottle that he has put on the table.

"There are towels in the bathroom if you want to have a shower, and there's shampoo and other bathroom stuff too. I don't have any razors or shaving cream – or whatever you girls call it – that's good for a girl, so you'll have to get a job to get your own stuff." I roll my eyes. He should know my job situation by now, shouldn't he? "Everything else is pretty obvious. There are also books in the living room."

For a moment I look around, unsure of what to do, and then I too walk over to the fridge and take out a drink. There's some cheap beer in the front, which is what I think he's drinking right now, but I didn't really pay attention to him when he took it out. Plus, I learned my lesson on alcohol with that sake. Ugh, that stuff was gross. It tasted like... well, like something had died and then all the bodily fluids were poured into a bottle and named something fancy. Sake. It sounds pretty at least.

"Shio-chan," he says from behind me, and I almost hit my head coming out of the refrigerator, at which he smirks when I come up again to look at him. "There's some pop on the bottom shelf."

"O-Oh," I mutter, feeling my face go slightly pink. "I figured something like that."

He laughs at me, as always, making me even more embarrassed. Why did I have to take so long when I'm trying to decide on something? I really have to break that habit. I take a pop out of the fridge and turn back to him, sitting across from him at the table. Suddenly, I chuckle under my breath as a slightly nostalgic feeling comes over me, and he looks at me in surprise, the beer bottle already pressed to his lips as he looks at me curiously with those sharp brown eyes of his. He lowers the bottle before he even takes another sip.

"What are you laughing at?" He sounds like he never expected me to laugh at all, ever, like he thinks of me as some kind of supremely depressed robot – well, I guess the supremely depressed part isn't so off.

"It's weird," I mutter, and I feel myself blush slightly as I realize that I'm about to share my thoughts with this man. I guess he has grown on me. "It almost feels like I'm having a friend over to hang out again, like I did when my parents were still alive." I twirl the bottle of pop around under my fingers on the table, looking away from him. "It's been so long since I actually had a friend, and now, even though I think of you more as an enemy than anything... you've actually helped me out more than any of my friends would have. Geez," I add with a dark laugh. "They all deserted me when they found out my parents were killed like that. They treated me like a freaking leper!"

"Shio-chan," he addresses me again, and I look up at him once more to find his eyes still on me. "You don't think I'm doing this because I'm being nice, do you?"

"No way," I laugh darkly, but I'm being totally honest. "I definitely think you have an ulterior motive for bringing me here, but I don't really care, as long as you don't hand me over to this Namie person. I don't know what you want from me, but that's none of my business right now anyway, and knowing you, I wouldn't get that information even if I wanted it." He smiles at that, and I continue to share his gaze.

"What if what I wanted was your body?" he asks me calmly, and I feel my heart skip a beat at this question, but I don't look away from him. "Would you be alright with that?"

"If you wanted my body, I would have no choice," I tell him, and I see an almost indiscernible spark of surprise and amusement come into those dangerous eyes. "I owe you a lot, whether you're doing this to be kind, or you just want something to blackmail me with in the future. Either way, you're..." I stop myself here, though, unsure of whether I really want to call him what first came to my mind or not. I look away from him, and continue to watch my fingers twirl the still unopened bottle around on the table. I really don't want to finish that sentence, but I know he's going to ask me to do so eventually.

"I'm what?" he asks. Great, there it is, I think to myself sarcastically.

"Nothing," I say as I stand up, suddenly ignoring my pop. "I'm going to have a shower. If you really want my body, now would be a good time to take it. If not, then leave."

He gets up, still looking amused as he leaves his unfinished beer on the table. Suddenly, he reaches toward me and grabs my wrist as I pass him, pulling me back toward him. I gasp in surprise and horror as he pushes me onto the table, and holds my hands above my head, his eyes cold and dark. He's smirking at me again, and my eyes have gone wide with the horror and shock at what he's just done... and what he's potentially going to do.

I feel myself shaking under his weight as he presses himself on top of me, his face only inches from mine, his breath warm on my skin.

"Tell me, Shio-chan..." he begins slowly, smoothly, "Do you really agree with what you said back there? That if I really wanted your body, I could take it without any question? Or did you think I was being hypothetical?"

My eyes go wide at this, and I feel my heart begin to race. His body is so warm, his hands so rough, but oddly comfortable as he grips my wrists above my head. When I hesitate, I feel him force my legs open with his body, fitting right between them. He's getting closer to me, and pressing on me even more than he was before, and my heart won't stop racing now.

I'm mortified. I really did think that what he said was hypothetical. I even thought that he might actually be joking, because he doesn't seem like the type to do this sort of thing, unless he's just teasing – but I can see in his cruel, easily-amused eyes that he is not just joking. He's being as sadistic and horrible as he can, and chances are that having my virginity taken by someone like this won't be pleasant, especially against my own will. My breath is coming in short gasps when I finally look away from him, trying my best to look calm about this, but it's not working. My voice is trembling as much as my body, and my arms are instinctively trying to come down by my sides to protect myself, but he's holding them firmly against the table.

"I..." I begin slowly, "I thought... that you were being hypothetical. Y-You don't s-seem like-" Suddenly, a slight whimper comes out of my mouth as he shifts his hips between my legs, and my entire body tenses. My breath is taken from me in one fell swoop from him as tears simultaneously come to my eyes. He chuckles under his breath and comes toward me, tilting his head slightly so that our noses don't touch. At first I think he's going to kiss me, and I tense again, closing my eyes and turning my head to avoid it, but he stops halfway there, only to laugh at me again.

I've given up. I was right to think that I couldn't trust this insane man. Of course, he only cares about himself. However, I did say that I would have no choice if he wanted to take me, so I guess I should stick with that, as long as I'm obviously not in a position to bargain.

My throat is dry. "It's obvious that I don't have any defence against you," I hear my voice say, still trembling. "So I'll just say one thing: be gentle."

Suddenly, he bursts out into a fit of laughter and bows his head as his body convulses on top of me, and I feel myself getting even more uncomfortable at that. I wince and try to move away from him, but he's still holding me so securely against the table.

"I almost expected you to fight me there," he laughs. Then, unexpectedly, he kisses my cheek, pressing my face into the table as well as he continues to laugh at me, even with his mouth against my face. He lets go of me then, releasing my arms as he stands up and backs away from me, closing my legs as he steps out from between them. "You're just too easy, Shio-chan."

I sit up, horrified, and watch him as he goes around the table and grabs his coat from behind the chair, still laughing. Suddenly it occurs to me that he was being hypothetical all along, and I had no need to worry in the first place, and when he did that, he was only playing with me.

As he walks by me, I stand up off the table and pull my leg back, only to give him a hard roundhouse kick in the back. He's not expecting this, and it sends him forward about two feet, but he's still laughing.

"Ow, Shio-chan," he complains with a grin on his face, "What was that for?"

"What do you mean, _what was that for_?" I demand, making my voice whiny and annoying as I imitate him. "That was for pissing me off! You slimy, underhanded, useless imbecile!" I punch him in the chest this time – or at least I'm about to, but he's expecting an attack and quickly grabs my hand, stopping it halfway there.

"Wow, Shio-chan, I've never seen you this angry before," he says to me, "Why weren't you like this when I attacked you?"

"I wasn't expecting it," I snap at him suddenly, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Why not?" he asks. It's a legitimate question, I realize, but that's what I hate most about it. The _why not_ that he just said actually fits the context of what's going on, and I hate it. I hate it!

"What do you mean, why not?" I demand as I pull my hand away. "Why would I be expecting that from you! I know you're not a pervert or anything, so why would you try to rape me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asks, raising his arms innocently. "After all, you said yourself that I'm always playing with you."

"I never said that!"

"Oh yes you did," he says. Leaning toward me, he taps my nose gently with his index finger, teasing me again. He's always freaking _teasing me_! Suddenly, I grab his finger and bend it back as far as I can before his hand goes back too, and, laughing, he tries to pull away. "Shio-chan-"

"Don't call me that!" I yell at him, and then just start spouting insults at him. "You're a pervert! Just a twisted, stupid, freaking clown! No one will ever take you seriously because you only ever play with people! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Suddenly, I feel tears come to my eyes as I scream this at him, rage boiling inside of me. "I hate you!" My voice cracks the fourth time, and I realize soon enough that tears are rolling down my cheeks, so my eyes go wide with horror and I turn as far away from him as quickly and as far I can, still holding his finger back.

He looks at me for a moment, still as amused as ever, before he takes his hand away fro me and puts it on top of my head. Right now, I'm so humiliated that I don't even care, and I just let him. He chuckles as he ruffles my hair a bit, and then brings his face close to mine again, but this time he avoids being uncomfortably close, as he was last time.

"Gomen, Shio-chan," he mutters to me with a laugh just itching to come out through his voice. "Would it make you feel better if I told you my name?"

I look up at him now, feeling like an embarrassed little kid who just burst out sobbing in front of their best friend, and I sniff pathetically, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. Really, I think I probably look like a little kid to him. He laughs at me and then helps me wipe them away, his hands resting on my cheeks as his thumbs do all the work.

Then, he tells me: "Orihara Izaya, but to you, I'll just be known as Izaya... OK?"

Looking away from him, I sniffle a little and nod. "OK," I mutter pathetically. He laughs at me again and then backs away from me, and I find suddenly that he's towering over me, for which I hate him – again.

"Well, I'm off," he says as he opens the heads out the door. I follow him to say goodbye, but right at the door, he turns to me, and I see that his eyes are once again laughing at me. Hopefully he doesn't tell anyone else about this little incident. "Byebye, Shio-chan." He waves to me as the door closes behind him.

A few minutes after he's gone, I turn to the rest of the apartment and suddenly realize how big it is. With two people here, it doesn't seem that huge at all, but with just one... Suddenly, I feel as if I've been left behind. I lean against the door and slide down it, looking around hopelessly.

How long will this feeling last, I wonder to myself. How long will I have to stay here, alone, without any company at all? How long will she be looking for me? I pull my legs in and hug myself tightly, burying my face in my knees as I look around. It seems so dark now that he's gone, and cold too. When he was with me, I hardly even realized it, but this place is huge – it's dark, and it's cold, and it feels more like a dungeon right now than it does a safe place to stay. I hug myself tighter yet and close my eyes, remembering the warmth he offered me on the roof that day...

"Izaya..." I hear myself whisper to myself, and I blush slightly at the sound of his name.

I like it.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

The next day, when I'm at school, I'm surprised when Kida suddenly comes up to me, looking as happy as he always does. I'm immediately reminded of his hate for Izaya, however, and I feel a wave of shame come over me.

"Ishikawa-senpai!" he cries enthusiastically. He wraps his arm around my neck, pulling me down to his height and grins. I'm reminded vaguely of Izaya's grin, and I look away from him, embarrassed. Why am I thinking of that guy at a place like this, around this specific person? It's ridiculous. It's pathetic.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks me casually, and I pull away from him, standing up straight again.

"Shoot," I say as I put my books in my locker, but pull out the one I need for this morning. He stares at me, and so I correct myself, saying, "Go ahead."

"Where have you been for the past week and a half?"

I stare at my locker for a few moments, and then turn to him with my hand scratching the back of my head awkwardly. "W-Well, Kida... um... I've been... around." I look around, as if to indicate so.

Suddenly, his face goes dark and he glares at me momentarily. "Have you been hanging around Orihara, even after I told you to stay away from him?"  
"Who?" I ask, but then remember when Izaya told me his full name last night: Orihara Izaya. It really does have a nice ring to it. "Oh, him... um, well, I haven't been," I say as I close my locker and start walking, almost hoping to leave this awkward conversation behind. "However... he did give me a place to stay recently..." I'm still looking away from Kida when he grabs my arm and pulls me into a cubby, where the door indents into the wall. It's a small one, and he pushes me against the wall and glares at me.

"What do you mean, he gave you a place to stay?" he demands. "Look at me!" I'm shocked by his suddenly aggressive tone, and my eyes are involuntarily guided back to him, but suddenly sadness fills them when I see the expression on his face. I feel utterly ashamed of myself, like I've just betrayed him.

"It's a long story," I mutter, but he continues to stare at me, impatiently waiting for an answer. So, I tell him everything. I don't want to lie to him, and I don't want to betray him by just leaving out some minor details either, so I tell him everything, and eventually his expression softens to something more like pity and sadness than anger. "And now..." I finish, my voice going small, "I guess I'm living with him... in a way."

"Yeah, but he always stays at his office, so you're not."

"Yeah..." I mutter as I look away from him again. To be honest, that disappoints me a little. It really is incredibly lonely in that apartment when I'm alone – or maybe it's just that I don't like to be alone anymore... whatever it is, though, it makes me uncomfortable. "You're right." Even if he does pretend to try to rape me, he's still there, right? I should have been grateful that he stayed at all, even if that does sound painfully desperate and pathetic.

"Senpai," he says to me again, and once more my eyes are guided back to him. "Just don't get too involved with this guy. He's dangerous. OK?"

"It's a little too late for that warning, Kida," I say, and then a light chuckle escapes my lips. "I'm living in his apartment. Is there really any way that I'm still not involved with him?"

"Still," Kida says, "Just don't get any more involved than you are now. I'm warning you now, so don't go running off, chasing after him. Even if you fall for him, don't let yourself get carried away."

I feel myself flush at this last sentence, and my eyes widen slightly. "F-Fall for him?" I demand in an odd, squeaky voice, "Kida, what are you talking about? Why would I-?"

"Trust me," he interrupts me, and when I actually look at him, I see that he looks older than me. Sure, he's two or three years younger, but his eyes make him seem so much older. I have to wonder now, What has this kid been through? What has Izaya put him through?

I nod hesitantly, and he leaves a moment later.

When I go up to the roof at lunch again, I find Izaya lying on a bench near where the fence used to be, and I smile slightly at the memory of what happened that day. I could have just let go of him so easily, and let him fall to his death, but that would probably just prompt him to haunt me. He seems like the type who could easily come back just by the hate he harbours for a person.

He's wearing his jacket again, and one of his legs is bent as he looks at the sun, both his arms hanging limp by his sides. He doesn't seem to notice me, but I could be wrong. I probably am. I walk over him and sit on the end of the bench above his head, and I chuckle when I see that he's sleeping. At least, it looks like he's sleeping. Hmm... I wonder what will happen if I poke him?

I raise my hand, and extend my finger, but at that moment he opens his mouth and says, "Hello, Shio-chan." I hesitate and pull back, sighing in disappointment as I look away from him. My shadow looms over him, so that must be how he knew I was here. When he opens his eyes, all I can think of suddenly is what he did to me last night, and I feel my face heat up and I look away from him, but out of the corner of my eye I swear I see him smirk. I feel so violated. Suddenly, I stand up and sit on the next bench over, at which he smiles and as he sits up.

"Aw, Shio-chan," he says, "Is this really how you treat the person who's giving you a place to stay?" He stands up and comes over me now, and I feel a slight twinge of anxiety run up and down my spine, remembering still what he did to me. I continue to look away from him, holding my arms close to myself. "Really, what kind of man do you think I am?"

"A pervert," I answer, my face still red. I remember his body against mine, my legs spread apart to allow him just enough access to play me like that, and suddenly my heart jumps inside my chest. I hunch my shoulders slightly in embarrassment. "Besides, you're only keeping me to slaughter me in the end, right? The only reason you're letting me stay with you is because you want to raise me up like cattle, only to make me into some tasty burger, served on a platter to Yagiri Namie."

I hear him laugh as he walks around me, coming the long way around to end up in front of me. He crouches down to my level, his hands resting on his knees as he tries to meet my gaze, but I'm deliberately looking the other way with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Is that really what you think I would do?" he asks with amusement dripping from his voice. When I don't answer him, and don't even look at him, he puts his hand under my chin and turns my face toward him, making sure my eyes are level with his. He looks at me with cruel brown eyes, and again I remember them looking at me yesterday, when he took me to my new place, and I try to pull away from him as my face glows brightly, but he holds me still before him.

"I'm not that mean, you know," he says.

"Your demeanor says otherwise," I correct him as I take his hand and remove it from my face, but I keep my eyes on him. "You still haven't told me the real reason as to why you're letting me stay at your place, so I can only assume the worst... unless you're willing to tell me."

"Nope, sorry," he says as he stands up in front of me. "It looks like you're just going to have to be constantly paranoid if you want to stay off the streets." He shrugs as he turns away from me, his hands in his pockets. He jumps onto the bench beside me and starts to pace on top of it, back and forth, back and forth. "If you stay with me, you'll at least be safe, whether you think you are or not. You see..." he jumps off the bench and comes toward me again. He stands over me and smirks as he leans forward, sending me back. Soon, I'm practically laying down on the bench, and I'm vividly reminded of what happened yesterday on the table. Once again, I feel my entire body go red and I suddenly put my hand against his chest. My fingers eventually find a nipple under his shirt, and I grab onto it threateningly. He looks down at his chest, where my hand rests, and then looks back at me, smirking.

"Come any closer, and you get a purple nurple," I warn, and he laughs, his chest vibrating against my hand. I blush slightly at the feeling. Ugh, why is it that everything he does reminds me of yesterday, when he attacked me on the table? Even just this feeling of him laughing at me reminds me of how he laughed at me while he was on top of me, pinning me down. Suddenly, I'm embarrassed, and so I twist his nipple anyway, even though he doesn't move toward me at all. He lets out a cry of pain, and doubles over, laughing, so he ends up coming closer to me anyway. He puts his hand over his chest where I attacked him, and at the same time, though I don't think he realizes it, he presses my hand into him. At first I panic and think of pulling away, but then I feel his heart beating under my hand. It's fast, like mine is whenever I find him this close to me. I hesitate for just another moment before pulling away from him, swallowing hard. I take a breath and put my hands against his head, which I think is dangerously close to my chest, and push him away, but gently this time.

"Sorry," I mutter, even more embarrassed now. He stands up, rubbing his chest right before he flicks me in the forehead. I wince slightly, and when I look up at him again, I feel something in my chest drop like a brick. It's the first time I've actually seen him look annoyed. I blush slightly and look away from him, ashamed of beating him up so much. "I... didn't mean to."

I hear him sigh with that same playful tone as ever as he tilts my head up once more and starts to pull my cheeks for the second time since I've known him. I whine and try to pull away as pain spreads over my face again, but he just continues.

"Ijaya!" I hear myself complain. I can't say his name right when he's doing this to me.

"You know," he says casually, "This is fun. I should do this more often. Alright, Shio-chan, whenever you beat me up for no reason again, I'll get payback just by doing this. Is that clear?"

I nod quickly and try to pull my face away from him, but then realize it's payback for the purple nurple, and I stop and look away, ashamed again. Why does he have to be so right at this moment? Suddenly, he stops pulling and bends down right in front of me, but my cheeks are still stretched out in his hands. He pulls them one more time – excessively, might I add – and then lets me go. I rub my face painfully, still not looking at him.

"I said I was sorry," I grumble quietly, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Shio-chan?" I look at him slowly, my grey eyes meeting his brown once again. I'm not really sure what else to say to him, but it seems I don't have to think of anything. "Why did you do that?"

"I did it because I hate you," I tell him grumpily, but he's not buying it. He sighs again and suddenly, I feel his hand on the right side of my stomach. His hand is at an odd angle, so that the fingers are pointing down, and his thumb is right beside my rib cage. "Izaya? What are you- augh!" I cry out in pain as his fingers curl under my ribcage, his thumb in the middle. I feel my body convulse in agony as it leans forward involuntarily to counteract the pain, and I end up with my forehead against his chest, my entire body trembling.

"You freaking sadist!" I gasp in agony. I feel my hands clutch his wrist, as if trying to pull him away, but when he notices this, he just digs his fingers in further, probably laughing on the inside while he does. My body reacts to it again, pushing me even further toward him, so that my head is literally pushing against his chest and collarbone. I can barely breathe. I feel tears coming to my eyes as I gasp again and again, trying to get away from this agony, but it's useless. It's completely useless.

"What do you want from me?" I demand of him, and I have to force it out of me because it won't come otherwise.

"Aw, Shio-chan, why don't you answer me?" he asks playfully, and grips me harder still. I make an odd noise between a a cough and a sob, and now my hands are digging into his arms as I'm only concentrating on trying to pull myself away from him now. "I did ask you a question."

"Alright, alright, I give! Just let go!"

A second later, he does so, and I find that I can't hold myself up anymore. I flop down on the bench beside me, my body shaking from the pain that I was just released from. I look up at him in anger, the tears in my eyes still threatening to come out. I'm panting hard and loud, with my hands in fists in front of me. Geez, he's completely incapacitated me with just one thing. How pathetic of me.

He leans forward patiently. "I can understand what you did last night, but this time you had no reason at all." He reaches over and is about to brush my hair out of my face when he notices my eyes following his hand. He stops and pulls back. "Don't tell me you're afraid of me."

"No," I say defensively as I try to sit up, but my body is still so tired from the abuse it received, and I am about to fall over again when he catches me in his arms, holding me up. I feel myself blush slightly at this, but right now I don't know if it's from embarrassment, fear, or anger. I have just enough energy to raise my head and look at him. "After the stunt you just pulled, though, I can't be sure. It seems there's a lot I still don't know about you."

He shrugs. "Not much. Now why don't you tell me why you beat me up without a reason before I torture you again?"

Suddenly, my eyes go wide and I try to push him away from me, but he's still holding me upright in his arms. This is to embarrassing! Why is he making such a big thing out of this? It was a one-time thing – well, now it is anyway. I am so not trying that stunt again, after what he just did to me!

"OK, OK!" I say urgently, my hands still on his chest from when I was trying to escape. I begin awkwardly, like I'm not quite sure how to say this, which I'm not. I vowed that he would never find out that I've been secretly – and shamefully – thinking about what happened yesterday at his apartment. Although I'm not really praising him for it, he might see it like that.

"I was... embarrassed," I tell him quietly, looking away. I really don't want to see his reaction to this. "I mean, you started laughing, and my hands were on you, and I was just reminded of..." I hesitate, my face suddenly glowing again, but then I force myself to continue. I hate him so much right now! "Of... yesterday. You know, when... you... did that whole pretend to almost rape me thing... and... I... freaked out?" Of course. You know you can always trust a comment if there is a question mark at the end, or in Japanese terms, a "Ka".

He laughs at me, as I expected, and sets me down on the bench again. Now I've pretty much calmed down, so I'm able to hold myself up without his help, but it's still embarrassing just to talk about it. Why did he want me to tell him so badly anyway?

"I was just wondering why you did that," he says, "and I learned yesterday that you're really cute when you're in pain, or scared out of your mind. Right now you were both, so I'm in a good mood now."

"Great," I grumble sarcastically as I lay down on the bench, facing toward the sky. "A happy Izaya is all the world ever asked for, because everything I do revolves around him. That would be you," I add in case he doesn't get it, and I point at him dramatically. Then I sigh and roll over onto my side, ignoring him. "Will you leave now?"

I hear him stand up, and without a word he walks away. I turn to face him again, but I don't let him know as I see his back toward me, heading toward the door leading into the school. Suddenly, I feel my heart clench in my chest at that sight, and I lay down on my back again, watching him go.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

After school I meet up with Kida again for the second time this year, which isn't really good at all. It's been two weeks, and we haven't logged any hours together. At least, I haven't. I've been away from school since I was evicted, except now, when Izaya made me come today. He's forcing me to have an education – kind of like a parent, I find myself thinking, but I immediately get sickened by that thought and push it out of my mind. Him – a parent? Even more disturbing: my parent. Ew. Just... ew. As I walk out of the school with Kida and his friends, we don't talk to each other. He talks casually and laughs with his Ryuu-something friend, and compliments Sonohara's 'eroticism' and 'cuteness', while mentioning how much Ryuugamine loves her. I'm walking a few paces behind them, because they're about to take off, leaving Kida and myself alone to go to the library, when suddenly Sonohara slows a bit and walks with me. I'm surprised by this, because not many people really know I exist, but then again, not many people know she exists either. Neither of us are really popular at the school, and from what I've heard, both of our parents are dead.

"Hi," she says softly and a little awkwardly, and she keeps walking with me. I'm not really sure what to do here, so I just keep walking with her for a few more seconds, looking away. I try to think of something to say, and all that comes to mind is, "You must be tired of that, right?"

"What?" she says, looking up at me from behind large round glasses. She's completely serious, whereas I'm mostly joking.

"Kida," I say, and when I look back at him, I see him laughing with Ryuugamine, but the black-haired boy looks simultaneously exhausted and amused by Kida's lame jokes. "It must get tiring, hearing him hit on you like that all the time."

She laughs quietly, and I force a smile to go along with her. I'm not used to joking with anyone anymore, but since Izaya came along, I guess I'm getting better at knowing them when I hear them.

"It's not so bad," she mutters, looking back at Kida and Ryuugamine in front of her. "I'm just not really used to it. It is kind of embarrassing, I guess. He always stops before he goes overboard, though."

I chuckle slightly at that, once again feeling my face go red as I think of Izaya and his little "jokes". Almost raping me on the table in his apartment wasn't exactly very funny. It almost makes me want to move out – until I remember what moving out would mean for me.

"Yeah, you're lucky like that," I say, earning an odd look from Sonohara. "I know someone who will go way overboard and beyond, and he still thinks it's funny, even when he scares a girl half to death." I laugh quietly as my hand goes to my heart, remembering that night when it was beating so fast. Again, my face reddens, and my breath catches in my throat. This is pathetic. Just the memory of it makes me panic. "He's a huge jerk."

She laughs under her breath, her voice still soft as ever, as she looks back at the two boys. "He sounds like a jerk," she mutters. "I would hate to be the girl who gets stuck with him all the time." At first I feel my heart jerk slightly and my eyes move away from her and the boys, but a few seconds later she laughs, and I realize it was just a harmless comment. It wasn't directed at me or anyone else. Yet, even though I know that, I still feel compelled to reply, to defend him. Or am I defending myself?

"He's actually not so bad," I mutter, and she looks at me again, confused. "He can be nice sometimes." I remember his hands on my face when the tears were rolling down, his thumbs on my cheeks. He was just entertaining himself, I'm sure, but when I remember that, I feel his ghostly touch again, those gentle fingers caressing my face, and I swallow nervously. "But only sometimes. Aside from that, he's cruel, sadistic, and he really shouldn't be trusted by anyone." I laugh now, and look back at her, smiling. "It took him forever to tell me his name."

She smiles as well, but it's a small, reserved smile. "You're funny," she says quietly. I'm surprised by this, and I just look at her for a few seconds before she answers my confused look. Well, I guess she doesn't really answer me, but she does give me a vague idea of what she's talking about. "Even though you insult him, it sounds like you're really close to this person."

For a moment I'm taken aback, so I continue to stare at her, and my feet stop moving under me.

"Seriously?" I hear myself ask, and some sort of weird feeling comes over me, like... well, like something. I can't really describe it. It's like happiness and anger mixed together in one, and I'm not really sure how to react to it. That comment seems to have messed me up somehow.

Then, without any warning at all, I feel my face go red at the same time as a harsh laugh is wrenched from my chest, but it sounds more like I'm going to cry. The noise is so abrupt and so loud that even the two boys turn around to look at us, eyes wide and curious.

"Ahahaha..." I laugh, but when I see Kida looking back, I stop talking about Izaya completely and just keep laughing until I can't anymore.

"Ah, Sonohara-san," I say when I stop a few seconds later. "You're funny. Just don't say that again, or I might get sick." She smiles at me again, while the two boys in front of us look confused, their eyes travelling from one of us to the other.

"What are you talking about?" Kida asks casually as he leans on Ryuugamine, who gives him a look from the side with his large blue eyes. When we don't answer, he just laughs and takes on a dramatic pose, one hand outstretched in the air, while he continues to support himself on his friend. "Ah, of course, it's me!" he cries dramatically, "Why else would you two lovelies hesitate like that? Girls just can't resist the pull of my-"

"Your what, stupidity?" I ask, acquiring a casual pose myself as I look at him with mocking eyes. "It's not like you have any other kind of appeal." The other two laugh, but he looks mockingly appalled, and even more so when Ryuugamine moves out from under his elbow, making him stumble to the side.

"Oi! Mikado!" he cries, "Don't tell me you agree with her!"

"Only a little," Ryuugamine says, and now I even laugh a little. I think I'm getting better at that. "Otherwise, I don't think you have any appeal at all."

Kida laughs here and smacks his friend on the back, sending him forward a few steps, but they both continue to laugh. "Good," he says, "because if you did, that would be a little creepy. However, if it was Sonohara-san, I wouldn't have anything to say against it!"

She blushes slightly, and I laugh at her, as does Kida, but Ryuugamine seems to feel compelled to stick up for her while she stays quiet. I watch them with a slowly growing sense of envy, remembering the days when I went out with my friends after school, or when we would just walk around town without a care in the world. Now look at me: ever since my parents' death, I've been alone, and up until now, until Izaya was kind (?) enough to take me in, I was not only alone, but also roaming the streets without even a roof over my head.

I really hate to admit it, but I guess I do owe him a lot. He has kept me from dying on the streets, and even from my own despair. He's given me protection from the people trying to kill me, and he's even bailed me out of jail. Even if I do say that he wasn't there for that little while I was living in one alleyway after another, and even when I say that he's bloodthirsty and unreliable, he still came to my rescue more than once. My only question is why. Why is he doing all of this for me? Why is he pulling me out of the streets, and out of jail, only to offer me a place to stay? Why is it his apartment that I'm staying at, instead of just some random hotel room? Geez, he always has weird motives for things that I don't understand, and he never tells me anything.

The group stops when we reach the point where we all part, and Kida waves goodbye to Ryuugamine and Sonohara, and when I see them waving to me too, I'm a little bit surprised, but wave back anyway. Once they're gone, Kida looks at his watch and makes an agitated noise as he seems to remember something. He tilts his head back in annoyance and looks at the sky, but my eyes stay on him.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I forgot. The library's closed today."

"What?" I groan as I slouch where I stand. "That's not fair. I need my hours to graduate this year!" I slouch a little further, then I too look up at the sky. "This is the last week that we can do this!"

Suddenly, Kida looks back at me and pinches my arm. "That's why you should have been here for the past three weeks!" he exclaims, and I jump away from him, afraid of getting attacked again.

"Hey!" I cry as I rub my shoulder, trying to ease the pain away, but he just continues to give me that aggravated look that only Kida can give, like he's angry with me, yet he's willing to be lenient because of my situation. He must feel pretty sorry for me, considering I have to live with my worst enemy, and my only friend. "Look, my life has been chaotic lately. Give me a break. Besides, I already get beaten up enough in my own home... well, not my home, but still."

His lenient stare suddenly becomes sour as he hears this, and I instantly regret saying it. "I told you to stay away from that guy," he says, and I notice now that he hasn't actually used Izaya's name since he's seen me with him. At least, not that I know of. I've never even heard him say Izaya's last name. I look down at him now, my eyes sad as I think of Izaya. He must not care very much for Kida either, but he loves humans, right? He said so himself. For a moment I wonder if he really cares whether other humans hate him as well, but I can never be sure with him.

"What happened between you two?" I ask him before I can even consider the words. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"It doesn't matter," he says as he starts walking away from me, but I grab his arm and pull him back toward me, and he turns back to me in anger at my sudden grip.

"It does matter!" I snap at him. "If you think you can just tell me to stay away from him and then walk away, you're wrong, Kida. It's not like I can just leave him, you know that. If I know him, then I know that no one can just _leave_, and I have a feeling that you know that as well as I do."

He pauses, but then pulls away from me slowly, looking at the street where Ryuugamine and Sonohara left, to avoid my grey eyes. He seems to be hesitating, but then he turns around starts walking again. "Follow me," he says simply.

"Kida-" I start to protest, but he just snaps at me.

"Do you want answers or not?"

I follow him immediately after that, for answers are the main thing that seems to be lacking in my life. I follow him closely, until we reach the hospital, which isn't that far from where we started walking from.

"Kida?" I ask as we approach the building. I always get nervous around these things. They remind me of dead people, which always brings back dark memories for me. They smell of the elderly, the sick, latex and cleaning materials, and sometimes medicine – it's a stench that I like to stay away from. Aside from that, there are always people whining about their pain when they're clearly being taken care of as best the doctors can manage, and they still don't seem to be happy about it. At least they have a roof over their head, and people who care enough to give them a place of rest, and the medicine they need. I think momentarily of the people I saw on the streets, and I'm suddenly sickened with most of the people in here, though it's probably because I was one of those people on the streets. Technically, I still am.

We stop outside a ward, and he turns to face me, sadness and shame clouding his eyes, but he still doesn't look at me.

"I have a friend who's in here," he says quietly. "She's sick... like, in the head. They've tried to fix her a number of times, but still haven't been able to do anything about it. Don't be too shocked by what you see, OK?"

I'm silent as he turns and opens the door to the ward, walking in slowly. His shoulders are low, as well as that blond head of his, and he walks like he's bearing the weight of the world on his back. Why? I wonder quietly. Why is he like this? What happened between him and Izaya?

When I enter the ward, I'm greeted by the smiling face of a girl who seems happy to see Kida, but her eyes never stray from his dark face. Even when he introduces me, they are always on him.

She has short brown hair and eyes, and she speaks to him like an old friend is supposed to speak to him, but I notice something off about her. She addresses him by his given name – Masaomi – and keeps telling him that he'll come back to her. He'll remember all the good times they had together, and he'll come back.

"I know you will," she says, "I know you'll come back to me. You can't run forever, Masaomi."


	13. Chapter 13

****OK, first let me get this out of the way: I have completely forgotten, until a certain review (thank you Serena Anges ^^) that while I may not be the only one who has seen all the episodes of the absolutely adored Durarara, I am also one of the few who probably have, SO, here's what I'm going to do. I am going to put a spoiler alert right here (**SPOILER ALERT**) yes, right there, just for all of you awesome people who don't know about Mikajima Saki (or Saki Mikajima, whichever way you like to say Japanese names). If you don't like spoilers, I apologize. Although I tried to be careful about what I put in here, so it's not that much of a spoiler at all (I hope .), I still revealed that Saki does exist and her relationship with Izaya... well, what I guessed her relationship was with him anyway... is important and does pertain to the plot of the absolutely adored Durarara. Therefore, I apologize deeply for anyone who is like me and is completely and utterly repulsed by even the hint of a spoiler. .**

****SPOILER ALERT****

**See? I put it up. You have been warned... I'm really sorry I forgot about this. v.v If you must, you have my permission as readers to beat me up over the reviews. *sigh...* At least I'll be prepared.**

****Also, I don't own anything of Durarara.**

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CHAPTER 13

Her name is Mikajima Saki, and she is part of Kida's mysterious past. He hasn't told me a word of it, but this girl is acting like I know everything. He is standing by the window, looking out in that same depressed manner that he came in with, his hands by his sides, his hooded sweater suddenly seeming to weigh him down. Mikajima hasn't looked at me once.

"You haven't been to visit me in a long time," she says, her voice nostalgic as it was the minute I walked in, and her eyes wistful as they stare at his back. "Where were you?"

"I'm sorry, Saki," he mutters, "but I'm not here to see you today. I brought my friend here for a reason." I'm struck by the sudden use of the word 'friend', and my eyes are guided toward him. He's just telling her that to make me seem less threatening, right? I mean, she doesn't know me, so she might get apprehensive around me, but if she thinks I'm Kida's friend, then it won't be so awkward.

"Oh?" Mikajima asks. "What's that?" Still her eyes don't stray toward me.

"She's involved with someone that you know," he says, his back still turned to us. "Someone that you're close to. Orihara Izaya."

Suddenly, a soft smile comes to Mikajima's face, and I feel something welling up inside me – fear? No, there's something accompanying it, something dark that I don't like. It's unfamiliar, but it's bitter and it attacks me full-throttle. It starts chewing at my chest, taking huge bites out of my hardened heart.

"You know him?" I ask, and I realize a second later that I sound defensive. Only now do her eyes come toward me. Again I'm being attacked by that fear, coupled with a horrible feeling of something gnawing at my chest.

"Yes," she says, "I was very close to him, and he even comes to see me once in awhile.. more than Masaomi does."

"Oh?" I say, and then I force a small laugh. Kida looks back at us now, but he looks distant, like he's not really here. "How much is that?"

"At least once a month," she replies in a wistful voice. "He's been a very good friend to me for a long time, and he says it would be a shame if we didn't keep in touch."

"I see..." I mutter, looking away from her.

Suddenly, she turns to Kida and says, "I thought you didn't like me to talk about Izaya." I flinch inwardly at the sound of someone else using his first name so freely like that, because I'm not used to it. Kida doesn't use his name at all, because of his utter hatred for the man, and so far I haven't met anyone else who has any ties to him... well, no one that I know of, at least.

I didn't know Izaya liked people like this – the calm, collected types who are so cute like this. Come to think of it, since I don't know anyone else with ties to him, I don't know what kind of person he likes, or even what kind of person he is.

"I don't," Kida replies to her, snapping me momentarily out of my daze. "I brought Ishikawa here to hear you talk about him specifically, because I don't want what happened to you happen to her."

"Masaomi..." she says softly, her eyes becoming soft and sad as she remembers something – probably the same thing he's talking about, and I find myself suddenly on the side. I have no idea what happened between these two either, let alone what happened between Izaya and Kida. "Nothing is going to happen to her. The Blue Squares-"

"It has nothing to do with the Blue Squares," he snaps at her, and I just stare at both of them, completely clueless, my eyes sweeping over one and then the other. What are they talking about? "It has to do with _him_! It has to do with that..." He trails off, apparently unsure of what to call him next.

Then, both Mikajima and I mutter simultaneously, "Izaya." When they both look at me, I feel my face go slightly red, and I look away from them, clutching the material on my skirt awkwardly.

"Do you talk to him a lot?" Mikajima asks me a few seconds later, and I'm forced to look up at her again, to see those naive eyes looking back at me. They know nothing, yet somehow, I see that they know so much more than me. They're intimidating, and I look away from her again, at the floor where my feet currently reside.

"It's kind of hard not to," I mutter, and then a small chuckle escapes my lips. "He seeks me out every chance he gets. It's kind of annoying, but apparently he finds me interesting... I'm not sure why, though." I force a small laugh here, but mostly because she doesn't respond for another few seconds. Not only that, but I find it awkward talking about this in front of Kida. It feels almost like I'm breaking some kind of law.

Well, he brought me here to talk about Izaya, right? So if I'm breaking a law, it's his fault and he should be the one to get locked up.

Her voice is amused when she speaks next, and I have to look up at her again when she talks. Her tone is so surreal, like she's looking at the world out of a glass box, which reminds me of Izaya. It seems that this is a common factor connecting the two of them, and at that thought I feel a heavy wave of darkness wash over me. It isn't bitter like it was a few seconds ago, but its taste is similar. It's... what is it?

"He's like that," she says with a small laugh. "When he finds someone interesting, he does odd things. He'll manipulate them and drag them down, as if to remind them of what they are. He likes humans, but he always treats them so cruelly... did you know that?"

"Yes," I mutter. Hearing her talk about Izaya like this is somehow sickening. I feel like I'm being interrogated, like she's trying to prove me that I'm not good enough for a psychopath like that.

"Whenever he comes to see me, we talk for a long time. Actually, he came yesterday and we talked for hours."

"Really?" I ask, my ears suddenly perking up. "What did you talk about?" Is that too direct? Maybe, but I really don't care.

She smiles as she remembers, and leans back in her bed, which is in the sitting position. "We talked about a lot of things. Whenever he comes by, he tells me everything that's going on in the city, seeing as I'm trapped in here. He also tells me everything that goes on in his life, and everyone that's involved. He got into a fight with Heiwajima Shizuo again, and-"

"Again?" I ask. "They've fought before?"

"Oh," she says, looking slightly disappointed by the fact that I don't know. "He hasn't told you yet? Heiwajima-san and Izaya have been enemies for a long time – ever since high school. Izaya was a transfer student, and as soon as he saw him, Heiwajima sent a vending machine hurtling straight at him."

I laugh slightly, because I can actually imagine that happening. When he saved me the other day, the man needed to provocation at all – just a nudge. I didn't really see what happened, but I know he's strong. He's famous in Ikebukuro, after all.

"I'm glad they're enemies," I mutter. "We don't need another Izaya roaming the streets, especially one as strong as Heiwajima-san."

Suddenly, she look appalled by my apparently rude comment. "What's wrong with Izaya?" she asks. She appears to be confused.

"He's insane," I state boldly. "He laughs after he practically falls off a building, and then just makes fun of the person who saved him! He didn't tell me his name until two weeks after I met him, and this was after – by the way – he pretended to rape me on a table in his apartment." Wow, I can't believe I brought that up. I feel like I've just regurgitated a horrible swear word that was locked up in my mind and just staying there, rotting slowly. It really is a horrible feeling.

I see Kida's eyes go wide at this, but I laugh at the thought of what must be going on his mind right now. Honestly, I don't care what he says to me after hearing that, because I think it's necessary for Mikajima to hear this. She obviously doesn't know him as well as I do, if she thinks he's so kind and caring. She looks at me with those innocent eyes, those eyes that I now realize shouldn't have intimidated me at all when I first looked at them. They're harmless. They are uneducated in the school of life.

"You're starting to sound like Masaomi," she mumbles, turning away from me. "He blames Izaya for everything. He always says that it was Izaya's fault that I ended up this way, and that I was stupid to go near him in the first place. 'He's dangerous,' he always says." She starts to fidget now, twiddling her fingers together, wrapping them around each other and then letting go. She still doesn't look at me. Her next words are nothing but a whisper emerging from her half-open mouth. "He isn't cruel, though; Izaya is thoughtful. Why else would he come to see me on the same day every month?"

I just stare at her, bewildered. How can she possibly say anything like that about a man who has done such horrible things? He even admitted to me that he killed a man once. No, he must be manipulating her somehow, but how? What does he need her for after he's successfully created chaos in the city by using her? Why is he sticking around?

I sigh, and bow my head, holding my face in my hands, suddenly finding myself exasperated. He always does weird things without telling anyone his motives. He always creates such horrible situations and never tells anyone why. Why does he do this? Does he just love to see people suffer? Is that his motive?

Or maybe, he doesn't need her at all. Maybe he's just as interested in her as he is in me, even though this girl and myself are nothing alike. I really, really don't understand him. Somehow, though, that makes no sense to me, and not only that, but I feel the same bitterness from before arise inside me again. I really hate this feeling, but it's not like I can control something I don't even understand!

Besides, if he's always so nice to this girl, why is he always so mean to me? Why is it that he's always making fun of me and squeezing my ribs, so that I can't breathe, and making me so mad at him? Why doesn't he treat me like he treats this girl? I mean, sure, he keeps me around, but why? Is it just his stupid interest in me? Augh! I can't stand it! He's so unbelievably infuriating!

"Ishikawa-san?" Mikajima addresses me, and I raise my head to look at her again. She has a sweet, innocent smile on, which suddenly infuriates me. Her eyes, that smile... it's all so maddening! Why? How is she so much better than me, that he has to treat her like a little princess, tricking her to see a nice side of him that doesn't exist, while he treats me like a drunk he found in the street... wait. Augh! It's true! I'm a drunk he found in the street! "Can I ask you something?" she continues, and I just stare at her.

"Does he really act differently around you?"

I sit up again, lifting my head from its hiding place in my hands. "Yes," I answer slowly. "He..." I pause, looking over at Kida. I've already said enough about Izaya to get him killed by that kid, just by letting the rape thing slip. I mean, he probably knows Izaya well enough to know that he would never actually take a girl's body without her consent (considering his love for humans... even if he does lack a considerable amount of respect), but he still has that look on his face, like he wants to tear the man apart and put him through a wood chipper. He seems to be protective of me – no, not just me, this girl too. Mikajima Saki.

"Ishikawa-san?" Mikajima addresses me again, and I realize that I didn't finish my sentence, and am now zoning out, my eyes on Kida. When I realize this, I'm suddenly embarrassed, and I look away from both of them. I hope it didn't seem like I was thinking too hard while looking at him – he might get suspicious... or something. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I say, looking back at her. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Um, I was just wondering... what kind of relationship did you have with Izaya before?"

She pauses, thinking about my question. Apparently, it's interesting. Then, to my horror, she answers with, "He told me everything. He still does – about his life, about what's going on in the city. He was always kind to me too. He treated me like a little sister. Well, an annoying one that he liked to play around with, but still a little sister. He's mysterious, but I think I know him well enough now that I can tell what he's thinking sometimes."

"I see," I mutter, and she continues to look at me with those innocent brown eyes. I'm not sure what to think now. Does she know less than me, or more than me? About Izaya, I would probably say more, but at the same time less.

Suddenly, the girl laughs, turning my attention back to her. She has her hand over her mouth, and is looking as cute as ever, and I feel that same bitter feeling in my chest come back when I see this. For the second time, I wonder in the back of my head what kind of person Izaya likes to be around, but again I push that irrelevant thought out of my head.

"He's never pretended to rape me before, though," she giggles, and I force a laugh and turn my head away from her, looking over toward the wall. Kida is still silent, but he seriously looks ready to put Izaya through a blender... while he's still alive. Great. She takes one of the most traumatizing and humiliating moments of my life and turns it into a joke – now I know we're going to be best friends.

"It's not that funny," I grumble under my breath, but she keeps laughing. For what seems like the fifth time today, I remember his weight on top of me, the warmth from his breath on my face, his hands holding my arms above my head. Once again, he's on top of me, forcing my legs open, squeezing in between them, and fitting his hips comfortably against me... well, comfortable for him. I feel my face go red when I remember his lips against my cheek, pushing my head into the table, and the feel of his body convulsing on top of me as he laughs at me. I hate him. I really do.

I swallow hard, trying to get the image that suddenly pops into my head out, and I find soon enough that I'm shaking somewhat from the horrific memory. He must have at least some idea as to what he's done to me. He is a lot of things, but not stupid, blind, deaf, or dumb. He pays attention to everything around him, and therefore sees everything around him. If I'm ever planning to hit him, I'm guessing he knows ahead of time, but not only because he notices everything. Also because he's such a prick that my actions have become predictable.

As for this girl... is she predictable? I wonder momentarily if he can see her actions coming before they happen, or if she surprises him all the time. Maybe that's why he keeps coming back to see her. For a second, I wonder to myself, _If she was in my position, and I in her position, with the same personalities we have now, would the case be the same_?

A few minutes later, I look outside and see that it's getting dark out, and I think that maybe I've spent too much time here. I also think that I've spent way too much time talking and thinking about Izaya today. I really need to get some new friends. Maybe if I move somewhere else, where no one knows my name, I can start anew and get him off my mind... too bad I have no money, and he's my only link to a roof over my head.

"I should get going," I say quietly, reluctantly, as I remember what I'll be going back to: a large, dark apartment with no one there. At least my old apartment was small, and with a much less ominous atmosphere. "I have school tomorrow."

"Yeah, me too," Kida agrees with me immediately, but I have a feeling that that isn't the reason he wants to leave. He's probably wanted to go for awhile now, but he brought me here for a reason, so he didn't complain. He stands up from the stool he's currently sitting on in the corner and heads toward the door. I really, really don't want to go back to that apartment, so I walk slowly to the door of the ward, saying a long goodbye to Mikajima, and thanking her for everything. She doesn't seem to know what I'm thanking her for, and frankly neither do I right now, but it takes a few more seconds, and she accepts it anyway.

When we finally leave, Kida seems to want to go faster than me, while I'm dragging my feet behind him. He presses the button to go down three floors on the elevator impatiently more than once, and after a few seconds of it not appearing, he gives up and goes to the staircase right beside it.

"Kida," I complain as I follow him. "Seriously, can't you be a little more patient?"

"I hate hospitals," he explains as he continues down the staircase, and I continue to follow. I don't really have a choice if I don't want him to run away on me. Besides, I still have some unanswered questions that I want to ask him, even though I know that right now might not be the best time. He has been in a bad mood ever since we got to the hospital, and he hasn't seemed to calm down a bit, even now.

I follow him out the door of the hospital, and only now, when we pass the street to get away from the building, does he calm down. We stop across the street, and he's looking worn out and ready to fall over, just to go to sleep and have a nice, relaxing dream, taking him away from all of this horrific reality.

A feeling of dread comes over me when he turns to face me, his dark eyes sad and heavy. He's about to say goodnight to me, and we'll end up parting in a few moments. I guess he doesn't know how I feel about going back to that dark and lonely place, but how can he? He's wrapped up in his own problems right now. I have no right to interfere, do I?

Suddenly, as the word 'interfere' enters my mind, so does an idea. I know it's far-fetched and stupid, and he would never go for it, but before I can stop myself I hear my voice speak words that make my blood run cold with terror.

"Um, Kida?" Crap. I can't take it back now.

"Yeah?"

"W-Would...?" I begin, but I can't seem to get the words out. Half of me wants to see what will happen, while the other half just panics and runs into the corner, acquiring the fetal position. I look away from him awkwardly, leaning toward the bold side as I feel my hand come up behind my head and scratch the back of it. "Would it be weird if... I-I mean, would it be... OK...?" Still, I can't get the words out, and still he's waiting, and still the fear of rejection burns in front of my eyes.

I'm about to give up, to turn away, but then I find the perfect words to describe what I'm trying to say. As I continue to look away from, I feel his eyes burning into my awkward face, confusion clouding them as he tries to make out what I really mean, obviously without any results. Finally, I look at him, and mutter.

"I don't... want... to go back."

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****...Maybe editing this would be a good idea... oh well.**


	14. Chapter 14

****Why hello there, my dear friends, I'm deeply sorry for not posting this chapter last night! . My internet is messed up right now (Noooo!) and therefore I am currently at my friend's house, loading this chapter onto Fanfiction. *cries*. However, I hope you didn't miss me too much. ^^" Ugh... food... um, yeah, random mood.**

****SPOILER ALERT** (sorry, I forgot to put this at first when I posted it. .**

CHAPTER 14

He stares at me, confused, and suddenly I feel like a complete idiot. Of course he has no idea what I was talking about! All I was doing was mumbling and stuttering anyway. It's not like I came up with anything coherent until the very last sentence that jumped out of my mouth. I really need to work on my impulsiveness. Why did I just do that?

"Um... go back where?"

I swear I just felt one of those anime gloom clouds form over my head, like I have my own private little torture session, in which I'm being attacked by all these inner emotions, one of which is embarrassment, another anger at myself for being so stupid and impulsive.

"Sorry," I mutter as I turn away from him and start walking back to Izaya's apartment. "I was just muttering to myself."

He seems to realize what I was suggesting at that very moment, and I hear him following me as I try to get away. What am I thinking? I can't just invite myself over to someone else's house without permission of any kind. I'm so pathetic, and not only that, but the suggestion in itself is rude! It's unbelievably rude!

"Hey, wait," he says as he catches up to me, grabbing my arm as I walk away from him. I don't turn to face him, for fear of showing him my presumably ultra-red, embarrassed face. I really do feel like an idiot. I just want to go... where? Home? I don't have a home, I remember now, and I relax my tense muscles slightly with that thought, letting his hand tighten around my arm.

"Here, come on," he says, dragging me back in the direction in which he was headed.

"Ah!" I cry in alarm, "Kida! What are you-?"

"It was your idea, wasn't it?" he asks as he continues pulling me along. He doesn't seem very happy about this, though, but I'm not sure why. Is it because I was the one who invited myself over in the first place? No, please say it isn't because of that. That would be worse than anything I'm feeling right now. "Besides, you don't want to go back there, and I don't want you to go back to that freak. It's not like he'll miss you. He's probably just playing games with you, right? He treats you like a toy."

"Yeah," I mutter, following him willingly now. We're walking slowly, but in the same direction. It feels weird going over to someone else's house like this. I haven't done this in so long, but I guess it's nostalgic in a way, only when I went over to friends' houses two to three years ago, it was never because they wanted to convince me that the person I'm living with is no good. Besides, I already know that. "He does..."

Now I'm not even going to a friend's house, but an acquaintance's house.

We stop in front of a short blue house with one storey. Kida steps in and takes his shoes off at the door, and I do the same. He turns to me a second later and, though he looks a little worn out and awkward, he's probably looking a lot better than I am right now.

"My parents love guests," he warns me, "so don't be surprised if they start doing something weird just because you're here. It's the same with all my friends."

Again, that word pops out at me, and I feel a darkness weigh heavy on my heart, and suddenly I'm slouching again. So when this guy says 'friends' what does he mean? Does he mean acquaintance? Or does he mean just any guest that comes over to his house?

"Masaomi?" I hear his mother's voice call out to him, and I'm once again finding it odd to hear him called by his given name, no matter who it is that's talking to him. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," he calls back as he leads me into the living room, where the voice came from. I follow obediently, but because of the awkwardness of the situation, I deliberately stop quick enough so that I'm hidden partially behind the wall. I don't want them to see me right away.

His mother is sitting on the couch with his father, and both were watching TV, but are now looking in our direction, only amplifying my desire to hide.

"Masaomi!" his father says in a happy tone that depicts absolute joy at seeing his son home from school. "You're late! Did you stop to see Saki?"

"Yeah," he says, "I have a friend with me too, and I was wondering if she could stay over for the night." Suddenly his parents' eyes go wide, and I feel my face flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to phrase it like that? "Just one night," he adds, and my face goes even redder. He's making it sound worse!

" 'She'?" his mother replies, her eyebrows raised at him. "You want a _girl_ to stay over for the night? Not in your room, I hope."

"No!" he cries in horror. "You're disgusting, that's not what I meant!"

It sure sounded like it, I think privately to myself as I start feeling sick all of a sudden.

"It sure sounded like it," his father says, as if reading my thoughts exactly. "Masaomi, you need to be more specific when you say words like 'stay over' and 'she' and 'friend'. There are many, many ways those can be taken, and lots of them are the wrong way."

"Yeah, yeah," Kida sighs, glancing back at me now. He seems to find this entertaining somehow, but I'm not really sure how. Don't tell me his sense of humour is anything like Izaya's... that would be – though ironic – quite disturbing.

"So where is this friend of yours?" his mother asks, and Kida looks at me again. I'm standing right beside him, but am currently hidden behind the wall, watching the three of them converse and argue over stupid little things from behind my shield. "Can we see her?"

Reluctantly, I step out from behind my hiding place, revealing myself to them. It takes me a moment to take in everything about the couple, though, because when I look at them, I'm suddenly attacked by a vicious wave of nostalgia. His mother's hair is dark brown, and her eyes light, and his father's hair is black, along with his eyes. To be honest, it's weird for me to see someone's parents, because I can barely even remember my parents' faces. I have to admit that when I see them, I feel both weighed down and lifted up simultaneously as I remember their tones when they first heard him walk in the door. They were happy to hear that he was home.

"Ishikawa Shiori," I introduce myself with a polite bow. "It's nice to meet you both."

"Oh, my!" his mother exclaims happily. "Masaomi, she's so cute!" I feel my cheeks turn red as she turns to me and adds, "How old are you, dear?"

"Um... eighteen," I manage to get out as I stand up again, trying my best to hide my embarrassment. "I'll be nineteen in two weeks."

"Really?" his father says with a boisterous laugh. He's joking when he speaks next, but I nonetheless I feel my heart jump down into my stomach as all the blood in my body rushes to my face. "Well, you're too old for our Masaomi then, aren't you?"

"Dad!" Kida cries in embarrassment.

"W-What?" I demand loudly, my hands suddenly going in front of my chest, as if in a defensive position. "N-No-no-no-no-no! I'm really not interested in him like that!"

"Oh, we know," his mother says with a laugh, and I feel a huge sigh of relief escape me. Once that's over with, his parents continue to laugh, but I feel like I can barely stand up because of the awkward moment that I just suffered. I realize now that I haven't been in an actual social situation, interacting with _normal_ people for a long time – ever since my friends deserted me after my parents died, actually. It's been a long time, so I guess I have a good excuse about why I'm so awkward around these people.

"So," his father says immediately after, as if the moment that was so awkward for me has absolutely no effect on anyone else. Even Kida, who stands beside me looking exhausted and agitated by his parents, doesn't seem as embarrassed as I am right now. Suddenly, his father claps his hands together enthusiastically, grinning widely. "Ishikawa-san, why don't you help Masaomi in the kitchen? He can't really cook, so he'll need someone to look over him – wait. Can you cook?"

"Y-Yes," I mutter as I put my bag down. I almost feel compelled to inform them that I've lived alone for the last two years because of what happened to my parents, but I realize before I speak that something like that could easily ruin the fun atmosphere that this couple are creating for me as they push me into the kitchen with Kida-kun.

"Great, thanks Dad," Kida grumbles as he puts his hands up behind his head and heads over to the kitchen. "The only reason I can't cook is because you never let me unless I have friends over – and that's usually just to embarrass me."

I smile quietly at that as he turns around to face me, his expression apologetic, but at the same time humorous. Good. His sense of humour is completely different from Izaya, I see now, and my smile suddenly becomes genuine. Like I said before, the last thing we need in this world is more than one of that guy. I can only imagine the havoc that he would wreak around the world if he had even one clone.

Kida leads me to the stove, and just looks at me for a few seconds, during which time I'm slowly getting more and more weirded out by the look he's giving me. It's thoughtful, but at the same time casual, like he's thinking about something trivial. I haven't seen that look in the last two years either. Weird. This house seems to be bringing back a lot of memories...

"What do you want?" he asks, and I find myself getting indignant at that.

"What do _I_ want?" I demand, annoyed. "You're the one staring at me."

He laughs at me, and looks away from me, still grinning. "That's not what I mean," he chuckles as he steps toward the cupboards and opens them, and takes out some rice and holds it up for me to see it, and approve it.

"That looks good," I say, looking around. This is definitely weird. I'm making supper with Kida at Kida's house. Even in my terms this is weird. "I guess we need something else with it, too, though, right?" I go to the fridge and pull out some vegetables, followed by meat from the freezer. "How does stir fry sound?"

"Yeah," he says, "That's fine." Suddenly, he laughs as he's filling a pot with water, and I'm getting the cutting board out. I look over at him, confused. He doesn't even have to see my face to know what I'm thinking, as his back is facing me while he's at the sink. "I remember when I brought Mikado here right after he moved to Ikebukuro. He was forced to make supper with me too, while my parents lounged on the couch. When we went out there to tell them it was ready, they were making out."

"Ugh," I say, disgusted. "Why are you laughing? If I ever caught my parents making out on the couch while I had a friend over, I'd be doing back flips, I'd be so freaked out."

Why is he telling me this? Really, that is disgusting, and it's not really something a guest should know, right?

"Yeah, I think I normally would too," he chuckles quietly as he comes over and puts the newly filled pot on the stove, and turns the burner to high. Then he turns to me, still smiling, and leans against the counter while I continue to chop up the vegetables. "But it's Mikado we're talking about here. I've been friends with him since we met in kindergarten, and it's hard to believe, but we're still good friends, even after everything that's happened, so I guess it didn't really bother me that much."

I feel my hands slow at this, and that same bitter feeling that I felt when I was around Mikajima suddenly wells up inside me again. It's not quite as bitter as it was before, but it's still bitter. What is this? It's disturbing, and it keeps showing up, whether I'm talking to Kida or Mikajima. The knife in my hand is cutting the vegetables softer now, as I am reminded once again that I don't have any close friends anymore, and all those that I had deserted me after what happened with my parents. If that's the case, though, then why is Kida standing here with me?

"Kida?" I address him quietly after a short pause between us. He looks at me with those eyes full of life, and I find myself envious of those eyes. They aren't naive – no, in fact they know more than I can even dream of knowing – but they're happy, whereas the most I can manage to fill my eyes with is tears. How can he look like that, after he was so depressed to go see Mikajima today? I don't understand.

I don't want to sound rude, but is there really any other way to phrase this? "Why are you telling me this?"

He pauses, but then that smile fades away and his eyes seem to die a little bit as he looks away from me, his face suddenly grim and dark. It's obvious to me now that I've hit a soft spot, and when he started this conversation, he was almost hoping to avoid the point. He was hoping that I wouldn't see it, but he was making himself pretty obvious, after all.

"About today..." he mutters, "I don't want Mikado to know about Saki. I don't want him to know anything about that monster you're staying with either. I don't want to get him involved, so if the subject is brought up in a conversation, could you avoid it?"

Suddenly, I'm the one laughing at him. I turn and point at him with the knife in my hand, and he backs away slightly.

"Do you even realize that what you just said makes no sense at all?" He just stares at me, looking surprised by this. "First of all, I never even talk to Ryuugamine, and since when have you ever seen him come up to me and start a serious conversation? Second, I know absolutely nothing about your past, so what would I tell him anyway? I might be able to tell him about this Mikajima girl, and what she told me about Izaya, but I know those are all lies anyway. Obviously she has no _idea_ what he's like at all!" Once again, that bitterness consumes me and I slam the knife down on the vegetables this time, making some of them go flying. Kida seems surprised beside me, but I'm ignoring his expression.

"U-Um... Ishika-" he begins, but I cut him off halfway through. I'm not listening to him anymore.

"He's cruel, and unreasonable! How can she even think that he's a good person? He's a horrible person, leaving me in that huge place all alone. He never even comes to visit me there, and it's his own stupid apartment!"

"Um, Sempai..."

"He's such a jerk too! He never gives me the respect I deserve." I turn to Kida here, glaring viciously. "Did you know that today, on the roof of the school, he dug his fingers under my ribs? I could hardly breathe!"

"Sempai!" he cries suddenly, interrupting me as he puts his hand over my knife hand, stopping it mid-chop. I look at him, confused, and he looks back at me with eyes that I swear belong in the circus. Great, now he's laughing at me too? Isn't it bad enough to have Izaya doing that all day long? Of course, Kida's laughing is a lot less annoying, because his amusement involves a lot less pain for me.

"Look at what you're cutting," he tells me, and when I look down, I see that the knife is directly over my hand, which used to be holding a carrot, but is now completely empty and lying flat on the cutting board, as if just waiting for the knife to come down. I slowly move the knife away from my hand and set it down on the table beside me.

"You take over," I say, "I'm not in a great mood right now."

"I see that," he says as he takes my place at the counter. "You can go in the living room or something, and just relax there."

"No, that's OK," I mutter, suddenly embarrassed. I feel my face go red again, and I wonder momentarily how I can be so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I can almost cut off my own fingers? I suddenly hate Izaya for the millionth time since I've known him. "You still haven't told me anything that could possibly reach Ryuugamine's ears," I add, and at that he looks at me harshly. He doesn't want to talk about it, and if I know him, I know he can be almost as stubborn as me. "I want to know everything, Kida. What did Izaya to you that made you hate him so much?"

"It's not what he did to me," he answers after a few moments. "It's what he did to Saki... and what I didn't do." I recognize the tone in his voice as an emotion that I've felt a lot since my parents died, and I lower my eyes to the floor. It's guilt... but why?

"What happened?" I ask quietly, but he doesn't answer, so I push him. I know it's not the right thing to do, but I want answers. I want to know everything I can about Izaya, and if Kida wants me to stay away from him so badly, it's in his interest to tell me. It's not like I have a choice, though, I realize suddenly for yet another time. Why is it that I'm trying so hard to get answers when I don't even have a choice? Doesn't that make this whole thing seem completely futile?

Suddenly, I hear his voice next to me and I look up to hear him talking. "Izaya is an informant," he tells me, "He also loves to see other people suffer, so he can easily use his job to his advantage, to let him have fun all the time. He used his job like he used any other person with Saki and me. Like she said earlier, Saki was good friends with him, and she knew him well..." He pauses, then glances at me before he turns back to the vegetables. What was that? "At least, she thought she did. She still does.

"I was..." He pauses again, but doesn't look up at me this time. He seems like he doesn't want to say another word, but he knows that without this information I definitely will go back to Izaya. Or maybe he's thinking that even if I don't have a choice, this information will somehow give me a choice as to whether I can leave my captor or not. We both know I'm trapped, but to be honest, most of the time it doesn't feel like that.

Kida continues soon enough. "At the time I was with the Yellow Scarves. Actually, I led them. They called me general, and they followed me. I hate it now, but back then I was stupid. I ended up going to Izaya too, for information, and asking him to help me with things that I was stuck on, like how to beat the Blue Squares. Then, one day, Saki was taken by them. She had become a good friend of mine – more than that, actually, and I cared about her a lot more than I cared about anyone from the Yellow Scarves."

"Wait," I interrupt, "So Mikajima-san was your...?" I trail off, unsure of what word exactly to put in there. Girlfriend, maybe. Is that the word I'm looking for?

"Yeah." He looks like he's got the weight of the world on top of him again, with his head low and his shoulders hunched. His movements are slow as he puts the vegetables in the wok, and there's a melancholic air around him. "Izaya betrayed her. He let the Blue Squares get their hands on her – no, actually, he led them straight to her. I got a call later on from the Squares. They said they had Saki, and I had to come save her. I tried, but halfway there I got scared and stopped."

I just stare at him silently. So it was Izaya's fault that Mikajima-san is like that? It's his fault that she's stuck in a hospital bed. No, not his fault – it's his doing. From the sounds of it, he had a lot of fun doing what he did, and if he could go back, I doubt he would change a thing. Suddenly, I don't blame Kida for hating him, but somehow, a part of me also dreads the anger that I'm starting to feel toward him. That part of me doesn't want to hate him at all.

Suddenly, Kida's mother pops her head in the door and smiles at us. "Is it almost ready?" she asks enthusiastically. "I don't hear anything coming from the kitchen, so you must be done!"

I smile slightly at her, and she does the same back at me, and then looks at her son. "Masaomi?" she asks, sounding concerned all of a sudden, but he just smiles back at her and laughs, leaving me to wonder how exactly he is able to do that. At least she looks less concerned now as she leaves the kitchen.

Once the supper is done, we go out and announce this to his parents, at which point they join us at the table, where we've put everything out.

"Wow," his father marvels as he takes a seat. Then he looks back at me and grins. "Good job, Ishikawa-san! Masaomi has never been able to cook like this."

"Thanks," Kida mutters sarcastically as he takes his seat. "You know exactly what a guy likes to hear, don't you Dad?"

"Well of course he does!" his mother exclaims excitedly as she starts dishing food onto her plate, along with her husband. "He's your father, isn't he?" I laugh as she turns to her husband now and steals something off of his plate. He yells at her, but she just laughs and steals something else.

Kida gives me an apologetic look from the side, but I shake my head, not accepting it. Honestly, I like it here, but there's something heavy weighing down on me again, and somehow it feels like I'm betraying Izaya. I mean, I know he doesn't really care, seeing as he's never there, and he probably won't find out anyway, but still, I feel something nagging at me in the back of my mind.

I push it away, though, and just continue to talk and laugh with Kida's family as they endlessly interrogate me, and tease me about their son, at which point I tend to go extremely red and deny everything of what they're saying. Of course, this only spurs them on even more, until Kida saves me by changing the subject, and for a few minutes we get stuck on talking about exams and how desperately we hope that we magically won't have to take them this year.

It's such a normal, non-serious conversation that I almost forget that I'm not at home. So when his dad turns to me and asks me what my parents do for a living, I'm caught off guard. I realize that for a moment, this was my family to me. His parents are kind and generous, and they don't mind their son having a friend over at the very last minute, which is nice. My parents would have flipped if I brought someone of the opposite sex over to my house after not coming home immediately after school, but I wasn't exactly their best child. Yes, I was their only child, but I admit that they couldn't trust me. It was wise of them not to trust me.

I swallow hard, not wanting to ruin the good mood, but Kida seems to notice something is wrong. I see him open his mouth to cover for me, but I don't want him to. I don't want him to save me from this one, so I'll save myself.

"My dad's an engineer," I tell them, and Kida looks surprised beside me. "He works a lot with planes and stuff, so I don't see him a lot, but he likes his job. My mom is a nurse at the hospital." I'm telling the truth. I'm telling them what my parents did before they died, so I'm not lying – I'm just fantasizing. If they didn't get themselves involved with Yagiri Namie, they would still be doing those things. They would be waiting for me at home, and I wouldn't know a thing about Orihara Izaya.

I'm not sure if that would be a shame or a blessing.


	15. Chapter 15

****I OWN NO PART OF DURARARA****

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fCHAPTER 15

_My parents come home late at night, as they have been doing a lot recently, and they immediately walk into the living room. They're quiet, so as not to disturb me, but I know they're here; they must think I'm sleeping. I hear the door to my bedroom slide open, and the light from the living room floods in, but only about halfway because their shadows are blocking it._

_"I feel like I haven't seen her sleep like this in months," I hear my mother whisper._

_"Yeah, I know," Dad says back to her. "She's been having so many nightmares since she got back. I'm just glad she can get a good night's sleep again."_

_There is a pause, in which I'm trying to slow my breathing just enough to make it seem like I'm actually sleeping. It's true that I haven't been having some weird dreams lately, but do they really have to check up on me like this? It just seems really weird to me. Maybe it shouldn't, but it does._

_"I forgot how cute she can be," giggles Mom, and Dad laughs quietly in agreement._

_"Well, she's a teenager now," he sighs, "They grow up fast, don't they?"_

_"They do indeed..." I hear my mother's soft footsteps coming toward me, and I close my eyes just as she bends down and wipes my hair out of my face for her to see me more clearly. She kisses my cheek softly, just brushing it in the most annoying manner possibly, because it makes me slightly itchy now, and then she pulls away from me. "Goodnight, Shio-chan."_

**XXX**

"Aw, I thought you were going to stay for the night," Kida's mother complains, and I see her pout slightly, though involuntarily. I laugh. OK, his parents are definitely odd, but I like them. They care about Kida, and really, that's all that matters, isn't it?

"Sorry, I just remembered something my parents wanted me to do," I say as I start walking away. Kida is giving me a harsh look from behind his parents, and I know exactly why. He's angry with me for going back to Izaya, but honestly we both know that I don't have a choice. Besides, how can I know that I can trust him anyway? How do I know that Yagiri Namie isn't trying to get to me through him? I don't know anything about him – I didn't even know he was in the Yellow Scarves until today, and I doubt his best friend Ryuugamine knows either.

Funny, I think to myself as I bow to the Kida family and then turn away and leave. It's funny how I mistrust Kida Masaomi – the one who is obviously trying to protect me from someone I can't get away from – more than I mistrust Orihara Izaya – the one I can't get away from. I smile darkly to myself as I walk through the streets of Ikebukuro, holding my books close to me. The irony almost makes me laugh.

Kida's parents almost remind me of my parents and the way they treated me when they were still around. They were always teasing me in front of my friends and making fun of and embarrassing me in every and any way possible. They didn't force my friends to make supper with me, and then try to embarrass me because of my lack of cooking skills, though. Actually, I only started cooking when I discovered I would have to be living on my own. It's been a while, though. I think I've forgotten how long it's been since they died... but going back to Kida's house, I remember them a little clearer now.

Maybe it's just a manifestation of my incredibly lonely imagination, but I remember them again. I can see their faces and hear their voices, and even remember the sympathetic touch after something happened at school - when a friend betrayed me, or when a pet was killed by a passing car. My footsteps slow as I remember these things, eventually stopping in the middle of the empty street. My heartbeat is calm, and is echoing throughout my body, like someone is slapping a wooden stick against an empty can. There is that resounding sound, but there is nothing inside that is able to feel the reverberations. There is nothing left inside this empty can. Nothing to feel the vibrations...

**XXX**

I'm at the door to Izaya's apartment now, and I find that before I even open the door I feel a wave of dread wash over me. I hate it here. I hate being alone in this place. When I open the door and walk in, I am about to take off my shoes when I see that another pair of shoes is already there. I recognize them right away as Izaya's, and I look around to see if he's here, but I don't notice him sitting anywhere near me.

I jump in surprise when I hear something pop from the kitchen, and I move slowly in that direction, not really sure of what to expect. When I turn the corner, though, I see him sitting there, his fur-lined jacket draped over the back of the chair on which he's sitting, and he's holding a newly opened bottle of beer in his hand. I feel my breath catch in my throat as I look at those cruel brown eyes of his, and I see that there is absolutely no amusement in them this time.

"Izaya..." It comes out as a whisper from my dry throat. That face of his is terrifying right now. "I... thought you would be at your office."

"Is that why you stayed out so late?" he asks calmly, and I shrug when I'm unable to think of a suitable response. Should I let him know that I was at Kida's house? "You worried me, Shio-chan. I thought I'd lost you for a minute there. In fact, I was just about to go looking for you."

"I'm sure," I mutter sarcastically, and I've relaxed a little bit more now that I'm hearing some amusement come back into his dark voice. He isn't laughing at me, though, I can tell that he isn't just by the tone he's using. He's angry with me, but at the moment I don't even know if I care or not. After all I heard about him from Kida...

"Where were you?" he asks, the amusement gone once again. He stands up and comes toward me, and I back up slightly as I listen to his socks coming toward me from across the room. He stops when he sees me back up, and he just stares. My eyes are still averted, but I can feel it. He always makes sure of that. "Kida Masaomi," he finally states quietly, and only now do my eyes go to him in shock.

"How...?" I begin, but he cuts me off not even halfway through my question.

"He's the only one who ever talks to you, Shio-chan – or am I mistaken? Do you have any other friends that I don't know about, aside from him?" Suddenly, his tone is bitter, and his words sting me deeply. I already know I'm a loner. He doesn't have to rub it in like that. He takes another step toward me, and I step back again, but find that I've missed the doorway, and my back is against the wall. He's looming over me menacingly, darkly, his terrifying air consuming me with all his rage. I still can't look at him: I can't stand to see those eyes boring down on me, furious with me. "I thought that with all these people chasing after you, it would be common sense for you to come back here before it gets dark, but no – you had to come back _after_ it gets dark, because it's so much more convenient that way."

I hunch my shoulders slightly in fear as he comes even closer to me, and I feel the warmth from his body emanating from him, and bouncing off of me like he's some kind of radiator. He bends down slightly so that our faces are level, one hand on the beer he hasn't even taken a sip of yet, while the other one rests in his pocket. His breath smells nothing of alcohol, so it's safe to guess that hasn't had anything else to drink yet.

I'm still avoiding his eyes, but now I look at his cheeks, his lips, his nose... anywhere but that penetrating gaze.

"Did you have fun over at Masaomi-kun's house? Did you enjoy talking to his parents?"

"What is this?" I wonder aloud to him, my eyes closed tightly in fear. I've never seen him like this before, and I never thought I would. He's never lost his temper, so will he now? If he does lose his temper, will he be this frightening? Or more so? "Why are you asking me all these questions? You know that I don't have parents, so obviously I wouldn't enjoy it at all. Why do you think I left so early? I would have stayed the night if-"

"You would have stayed the night?" he repeats to me, his voice even darker now. He takes my chin in his hand, tilting my face upward and moving his head so that I'm forced to look at him, and he glares at me. My grey eyes widen in horror at the expression on his face, filled with anger. "Please tell me that was a typo," he mutters softly to me, and somehow that soft voice is even more frightful than any yell that I have ever heard. "You weren't actually intending on staying at his house for the entire night, were you?" His words are slow, menacing.

"Izaya..."

He slams a hand beside my head, making me jump and wince simultaneously as a small whimper escapes me, but he still looks at me with those cold eyes. I can't escape their glare now that I've looked into them, now that I've seen the rage that has boiled to the surface. It's the most terrifying thing that I've ever seen on anyone, that angry face of his. He doesn't need that expression, so why is he using it on me? Why is he so angry at me when I should be the one angry at him for everything that I heard tonight! I should be the one attacking him. I should be the one looming over him, scolding him, wondering why he did what he did. So why is it so easy for me to just stand here, my back against the wall, his body trapping my way out?

Why am I letting him do this to me?

"Shio-chan," he addresses me in that same smooth voice as before. "Are you looking for death around every corner? Or is just that you're too stupid to know what it looks like when it finds you?"

"What do you care if I get myself killed or not?" I ask him, and I'm infuriated when I find that my voice is shaking a little, along with my body. I can't seem to control it; that face of his, that angry face, is too much. I've never seen anything like it. "It's none of your business. Sure, you gave me a place to stay, but you're never here anyway, so what's the point? Why give a girl a place to stay if you're just going to leave her alone all the time anyway? Why not just leave her on the streets?"

He pauses for a moment, and in that split second I swear I see a flash of sorrow and pain come across his face before it's quickly replaced with amusement again, that same cruel amusement that he always has. I narrow my eyes at him as he comes in closer to me, leaning against the wall with one hand as he bends toward me. I swallow hard, but I don't look away from him again. I feel myself trembling as he comes closer, and my heart beats faster and faster with every new movement of his. Now he lets go of the wall and strokes my face with his fingertips, the movement gentle, despite his current state. His fingers are caressing strands of my hair now, and he takes some of it to bring in front of my face.

"It's a secret," he whispers to me, and then pulls himself away from me, taking a few steps back. He stares at my confused expression for a moment with a small amount of amusement coming back into his eyes, and something else too... something I don't recognize on him. It doesn't suit him, and he seems to think so too as he turns away and puts on his jacket after setting his beer down on the table. Immediately, I feel my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach.

"Are you leaving?" I ask with an involuntary sense of despair behind my voice. He looks at me, and once again I find that his eyes are laughing at me – it's completely different from what he looked like about two seconds ago.

"If I don't get back soon, Namie will get suspicious," he explains to me, and I look away from him again, feeling a familiar darkness come over me. He's right, of course. He's always right. "Then she'll know that I have contact with you."

I look up at him again, surprised. "She doesn't know?"

"Nope," he says as he picks up his beer again, taking it with him as he starts walking toward me. "As far as she knows, I cut my ties with you after I delivered that little message about your parents. She doesn't know a thing."

"How is that possible?" I ask him, mostly because I don't believe a word he's saying. I know he's definitely nothing like Saki described him, and more like what Kida told me, so how can he expect me to trust him?

His hand is on my head now, and I don't resist as he pulls me in so that it rests against his chest, and he kisses my forehead gently. I blush slightly, but still I don't pull away. I want to, but at the same time my body just won't let me. I'm comfortable in his arms, against his chest like this. He's solid, and warm, and it feels good to have something like that under my head for once, rather than just another pillow that only gets warm after I warm it up with my own body heat. On the other hand, he's already warm, and somehow I find that no matter how much I want to hate him right now, no matter how much I want to distrust him, I just can't right now, because I'm comfortable right here. I don't want to move.

Then, he lowers his lips to my ear and I hear him whisper heartlessly, "You're so easy to please, Shio-chan."

In sudden anger, I want to elbow him in the side, but he moves away from me before then, and when I turn to yell at him the door is already snapping shut, and his shoes and coat are gone.

I groan angrily as I sit down in the same seat that he had pulled out before I came back, and I lean back in it, balancing myself on the two back legs. I never know why he does anything, but I could almost swear that when I walked in today, he was not only angry with me, but worried about me.

I laugh out loud now and lean back further in the chair. Yeah, right, I think to myself, As if he would be worried. How can I think something so stup-

"Ah!" I cry out suddenly as, at that moment, the chair's legs decide to come out from under me, sending me to the ground with a back-breaking _bang_! My breath is stolen from me, and for a few moments of absolute panic, I find that I can't get it back. I put my hand to my chest and try to sit up, but again I find that I'm only barely able to move. After a few moments, though, I manage to take in a gasp just as I hear a click from the other room, where from Izaya has just left.

"Shio-chan?" I hear Izaya call to me from behind the door, his voice smooth and amused as ever, "Are you alive?"

"Just go!" I yell at him. I wish I could throw something at him, but I think my body is still too stiff from the surprise I received just a second ago to even move.

**

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**

**OK, so I am really tired right now... -_-' lol, I'm falling asleep here, but I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did while I was writing it. XD I like angry Izaya, and I really hope you do too, but I also appreciate constructiveness, so if you see something wrong that I could fix to improve my writing, I'd be happy to hear it. ^^


	16. Chapter 16

****OK, so first of all, I know absolutely nothing about yen, except that the Japanese yen is worth less than our dollar (that would be the Canadian dollar for me). (?) At least, I think so... Anyway... just so you know, I researched this (kind of) so it's all good (or close to), and now I know a little bit less about the Japanese yen, which is that two hundred dollars from the Canadian or American dollar is almost twenty thousand in their terms. Am I doing OK so far? I hope so, but if I messed up on anything in here, just let me know.**

****I OWN NOTHING OF DURARARA****

****And look here now, because otherwise you're not getting it at all. ***SPOILER ALERT*** (It's just for something small from close to the beginning - I think right after we meet Namie and learn her story we discover this, but if you haven't seen much of the anime yet, I'm just letting you know.)**

**Anyway... Enjoy~**

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CHAPTER 16

The days have gone by slowly after his wrath almost murdered me, and with school they're just going by slower and slower. Izaya meets me up on the roof of the school during lunch sometimes, and he talks to me about things that I've heard him talk about millions of times before – Namie and her many quirks and annoyances, and everything he thinks about her. Actually, he mostly just subtly insults her, but other times he will compliment her looks and figure. When he compliments her, I find myself burning with anger, and I can't help but hit him occasionally, but when he insults her it's actually kind of refreshing. I like to hear that a bit better – I mean, who wants to hear that the woman after their life is beautiful? Apparently she's in love with her little brother, though, which I find a little creepy. When I hear that said little brother (Yagiri Seiji) goes to my school, I'm shocked and I'm creating an outburst before I even know anything about it.

"He always has seemed weird," I mutter to myself, and Izaya laughs at me. Suddenly, I realize that, while the fact that he always laughs at me used to bother me, these days I think it has just become a routine for us. He always seems amused by me, and though I hate to admit it, I think I'm starting to like him. There's more to him than anyone would expect, and even I thought he was just a sadistic maniac the first time I met him - and really, I still do - but there's something else there too. No, not just something – there's a lot more there.

He meets me after school some days when I part from Kida and his friends, and every single time Kida gives him a death glare, and I'm momentarily reminded of his hatred for Izaya. Every day that Izaya shows up, Kida becomes furious. He doesn't show it – in fact he hides it rather well – but when someone is standing right beside or behind him, they can feel it. Even Ryuugamine and Sonohara have seemed to notice it. I, however, have found myself getting more attached to Izaya, and while the things that Kida told me at his house have stuck with me, I find that the closer I get to Izaya, the more gentle he seems to me. Of course, when he gets angry that's a totally different story, but otherwise I'm fine with being around him... although he still annoys me more than anyone else I know.

Of course, I suspect that the only reason he's coming to see me so often now is because he doesn't want me to stop at Kida's again, because we both know the chances of me getting away from people chasing me again is slim, and the chances of people chasing me again are not so slim. I do wonder why he cares at all sometimes, though, but I know it's stupid of me to wonder that. I have asked myself - and him - why he chose to take me in, but I find that I never really get a straight answer. It still bothers me, but not as much anymore.

When I got back to the apartment today, though, he wasn't there, but there was an envelope on the table as well as a note on top of it. I opened the note first, and it read, _I'm usually not this kind, but that Raira outfit of yours is starting to bore me._

At first I wondered what the heck he was talking about, but when I opened the envelope I found what looked to be twenty thousand yen. I was shocked. No, not just shocked – appalled, and kind of disgusted. (He didn't give me this money until today! That jerk!)

So, I came here to the mall. I've already spent half of it on clothes and food, and I'm still going, and I'm still wondering why. I'm always wondering why, though, so it's not really a new thing with me. Izaya still makes fun of me for it continuously, and I'm not sure how much more my cheeks can take.

I look down at the bags that I'm carrying around with me, and realize that I have more bags than I've ever had in my hands, and it's actually a little embarrassing. Although I mostly just went to a bunch of different stores and bought the stuff that was on sale, like I used to do with my friends. We would always have a lot of fun at the mall, but that's gone now I guess. I must admit, I do feel a little guilty spending Izaya's money like this, even though he did leave it on the table for me... unless it was just a test to see if I could resist going shopping, despite my lack of suitable clothes. Then again, he doesn't seem to have a very good reason for a lot of things... or maybe it's just that I don't know his motives.

Ugh. He's so annoying!

I figure I might as well go home now, since I already have a lot of clothes in my arms by now. Besides, I don't want to spend all of his precious money... then again, considering the things he's said so far and the apartment he doesn't even use, I would say that money is no object. Plus, for the past few years, wasn't he out of the country? That must cost a lot of money.

As I'm walking out of the mall, though, I see someone familiar to me coming in, and I frown deeply, a sharp stake going through my heart as soon as I see her. She has blue eyes, and her hair has been dyed blond. She's tall and beautiful, as usual, and she stands out in a crowd; she always has. Her name is Tachibana Hanako, and she was the one to pull all of my other friends away from me, so it's obvious that she has trouble living up to her beautiful name, aside from on the surface. She's with a group of her new friends that I haven't met, and don't care to, mainly because she usually ends up going out of her way to harass me. She hates me, and I'm not even sure why, but as soon as my parents died, it seemed to be the perfect excuse for her to make her own cult against me.

The sweet smile on her face suddenly becomes cruel when she sees me, and her eyes reflect the same hate that she's harboured for me since the day I came back from the funeral two years ago. She's always been a selfish witch, and apparently the day of my parents' funeral was also the day of her sweet sixteenth birthday party. Oh my, how important it must have been for me to be there. I don't think that's the only reason she hates me, though. I don't know what it is.

She comes toward me, her friends following loyally behind her.

I sigh and lean against the wall, knowing what's coming next, and I'm really not in the mood for it. They're going to say harsh words, and I'm going to say harsh words, and we're just going to end up hating each other more. She might even threaten to send her oh-so-scary boyfriend after me. Really, he's an idiot, but she thinks he's cool. Hm, I wonder why. Could it be that she's as stupid as I think she is? Yeah, possibly.

The five other girls corner me against the wall, as if trying to intimidate me, but after living with Izaya for a few weeks, I know what scary looks like. I also know what scary smells like, sounds like, and even what scary eats like. I know scary – and its name is _not_ Hanako. Its name is Izaya's wrath.

"Hey, orphan," she says cheerfully, using what I am as an insult against me. I don't really care, though; I accepted that I lost my parents a long time ago. Now it's time for her to accept that the world doesn't revolved around one specific little princess. "You look sad; what's wrong?"

I glare at her, fed up and definitely not in the mood to argue. What a pain. "Is it just me or have you used that same joke every single time that we've run into each other?" I ask her boredly. "Now will you get out of my way? I have somewhere to go." Hanako just laughs at me, like she thinks that me having somewhere to go is the most hilarious thing since the doctor pulled her out of the womb, and I feel a pang of annoyance come over me. Why must she go out of her way to do this? If I stay out too late again, Izaya will be mad at me - and I_ really_ don't want that.

"Yeah, right," she mocks me, and all her other little cronies laugh as well. "Don't tell me, you're meeting your boyfriend? Do you have a job that you need to get to, you pathetic excuse for a human being?"

"Look, Hanako," I say as I take a step toward her, aiming to get past her. "I don't have time for your petty games, so if you will just let this little orphan go on home, that would be really nice. Besides, I'm staying with a friend, and if I don't get back before a certain time, I'll get my head bitten off again."

She laughs again and blocks my path, smirking a gruesome smirk, and all I want to to do right now is smear that makeup all over her stupid little face. Then I remember that I bought a picture frame that I thought would be nice in the living room – and just because I could. Besides, I don't have a camera, but I have many pens and pencils. At the time, I figured that I could maybe write a poem or something in calligraphy and then, if I liked it enough, I could frame it. So, I guess I bought a few of them. I haven't written a poem or a story for such a long time, though, so I'm not sure how well this plan of mine will go over. Come to think of it, I don't even know where my notebook is. I brush my violent thoughts about this girl away, though.

"Oh?" she mocks me, "Which friend? Are they from Raira?"

"Will you just get out of my way?" I try to pass her again, but this time her friends come around behind me, while others just come in closer. "Why don't you tell your clones to do the same?" It's not really a question so much as it is a statement, but she just smiles sweetly, and steps even closer to me.

"Answer my question, Shiori," she says, her tone suddenly dangerous, but it still doesn't scare me. Compared to Izaya, this is nothing. All she wants to do is be in control; all she wants is for me to submit pitifully to an even lower level than what I'm at now, which I don't even think is possible. "Which friend? Wait a minute," she adds, and then pretends to be thoughtful as she looks up and to the side, away from me, a hand on her chin. "Do you even have any friends? Hm... Tell me, Shiori, did your parents pay this friend to let you stay at their place?"

I glower at her. "If it's a friend they wouldn't need to do that, unless it's you," I shoot back at her, "Besides, your logic is a little twisted, Hanako – my parents are dead. I thought that you, of all people, would know. I mean, isn't your nickname for me Orphan?" She's starting to get on my nerves now.

"Yeah," she says, still mock thoughtful, "but they could have had other means of doing that. I mean, what if they knew they were going to die and paid this person in advance?" Now she's really getting on my nerves. How can she even pretend to talk about my parents and not feel guilty about it? I consider taking her on a guilt trip, but she has always been heartless, so that would be useless. She would only laugh in my face. I hate her. I've hated her since the day I met her, but at the time all I wanted was to be popular, so it didn't matter to me. Now I laugh at myself inwardly as my own stupidity becomes clear to me for at least the ten thousandth time in my life.

She leans in now and I take a step back from her disgusting breath, and those huge blue eyes. I scrunch my nose in repulsion slightly as I turn my head to the side, but she pretends not to notice. She is perfect, after all; who wants to question her? Who is willing to stand up to a girl so beautiful, so kind, so loving? Who is willing to beat her with picture frames?

"Face it, Shiori," she whispers to me, "No one wants you. You're just a piece of garbage, floating in the wind. I'm surprised you even have a place to stay, after you were fired from that store. They paid you good money, and you just threw it away like nothing, and from what I've heard, they're the only ones who were even willing to hire you until you completely blew it."

Suddenly, it feels like something inside me turns off, while another part turns on. My mind goes blank, and all I feel is a burning rage in the pit of my stomach. All I hear are screams of fury and terror echoing in my mind. My hand goes into a bag and pulls out the picture frames, and before I know it, the box of said frames is smashing against Hanako's face, making her lose her balance. She goes straight to the floor, and I descend with her as she grabs the collar of my shirt, pulling me on top of her. Without reason of any kind, I find myself beating her with the picture frames, screaming obscenities at her as her friends try – and fail miserably – to pull me off of her, to force me away. She's screaming for help, and trying futilely to push me away from her, but it's no use. I just smash her face once more with the corner of the frame, and the pull back for yet another satisfying hit.

It hits her nose and blood sprays all across my face and my clothes, and when she reaches up to grab my arm to stop me, I just slam my weapon across her arm. There's a sickening crunch and she screams even louder.

Slowly, my thoughts are coming back to me, but they're jumbled and too fast for me to comprehend. I only understand a small part of what is happening in my mind. They tell me to hit her again, and I do. They tell me to yell at her, and I do. I'm screaming at her, and I don't even know what I'm screaming. I'm hitting her and I don't even know where I'm hitting. My eyes are blind, my ears are closed, and the only thing that's working is my body. My arm is going up and down, up and down, while my other arm holds her down. I'm sitting on her, and she can't do anything about it. Her friends are horrified, and their cries for help are only barely reaching me.

_Hit her again. Hit her again. It feels good, doesn't it? The impact feels good, so don't stop now. Hit her again, and again, and again. Hit her again! Hit her harder! She's bleeding! Look at all that blood! Look at it! Hit her again. Hit her harder! You know she deserves it! HIT HER AGAIN!_

My arm comes down again and again, as long as these thoughts are rolling through my head. They're screaming at me, encouraging me, laughing at her pain. I'm about to come down for the final blow - the one that will definitely either knock her out or kill her. I love this. I love it! Why do I love it so much? Why am I having so much fun, seeing her in such pain? She continues to struggle beneath me, but I don't let her do anything extreme. I bring my arm above my head, and then strike for the last-

My hand stops halfway. Why does it stop halfway? I feel something around my wrist, and I look up at the man standing over me. He's wearing all black, except for a brown, fur-lined coat and the silver buckle on his belt. Even his hair is dark, but his eyes are what strike me the most – they're brown, typically a warm colour, but these eyes are cold. Amused and playful, but cold – wait, maybe cold isn't the right word for them. They're distant, like they're watching the world from the inside of a glass box, with a certain dark beauty that I find sucks me in almost immediately. I find that when I look at him, I feel warmth somewhere inside me, and my thoughts slow slightly, just enough for me to realize one thing.

I know him... but from where?

"Shio-chan," he says as he bends down to talk to me, and I just stare at him. My gaze won't leave those beautifully dark brown eyes. "Do you really think it's wise to start a fight here? You're being really loud."

Still, I stare at him with my dead grey eyes, my long black hair messy now that I've been moving back and forth, back and forth, always looking forward to the next hit that I can put on this girl. I look at her again silently, and see that her face is covered in blood. Did I do that? Was I the one who inflicted this upon her? Why? Do I know her? It seems as if somewhere between screaming at her and now, I've lost something. This feeling is rather nostalgic for some reason.

Her breathing is harsh, and I see water coming down from her eyes, smearing the blood and her makeup together to create an odd look. All I know is that she will not be very pretty when the blood and makeup are cleared away from her. She might even have to get stitches. I wonder again, Why did I do this to her? She must have deserved it.

I look at the man holding my arm back again, and I discover that I'm struggling against him, that my arm seems to have a mind of its own as it tries and tries to take over, to hit her again. I force the muscles to relax, but it takes work, because ecstasy is still flowing through my veins. My body is still excited about hitting her, and my mind is still numb... but I don't know why I'm doing any of this.

I guess it doesn't matter, though, considering I don't really feel like beating her anymore. So, I turn to the man beside me and ask, "Can we go?"

He looks a little surprised by my deadpan expression and the confusion that was over it only a moment ago, but then an epiphany seems to reach him and he sighs as he looks at the ground.

"Ah, of course," he mutters to himself. "I should have known this would happen."

Then, he bends forward after crouching down to my height, and he lifts me over his shoulder, pulling me with my arm so that my body drapes over his. Then, he picks up the bags that I presume are mine, and he begins to walk in the opposite direction. When the man turns around to carry me away, I see a boy with short blond hair and brown eyes looking at the girl on the ground with a horrified expression on his face. As his eyes come toward me, and he sees the blood that is also covering my face, he looks appalled. It's as if he knows me and thinks that I would never do something so cruel, but in that case, he obviously doesn't know me. I don't think I know myself, because I don't think I ever thought that I would do something like that either.

It's just as we walk out of the mall that I hear the guards coming, and their voices are giving me a headache. They're yelling at us to stop, but at that moment, the man turns a corner and goes up a fire escape in a back alley, heading to the building's rooftop. There, he turns and looks down at the guards who apparently lost sight of us before we escaped up the fire escape, and he keeps walking with me over his shoulder.


	17. Chapter 17

****Just to let you know, this might be my last chapter for the summer. *cries* because I don't know if I'll have internet where I'm going... If I do, though, the updates will be coming a bit slower (probably about one a week, like I was originally planning) because I feel like drawing it out, since it's only just getting to the good part(s). LOL, I sound so conceited right now, I know, and I'm sorry for that, because I really do try to stay away from the whole "conceited writer" ego thing, but it's hard because I'm so darn perfect. XP Kidding! Don't eat me. However, regardless of whether I have internet there or not, I shall continue this story until the very end. ^^**

****I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OF DURARARA****

****On that note, Enjoy~**

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CHAPTER 17

My head is burning, and I try to close my eyes to ease the pain, but it only gets worse. I groan and hold my head as Izaya just looks at me, having put me down in a back alley, so that he can rest and I can get what little composure I had before I snapped back. My thoughts have slowed enough so that I'm myself again, but I have such a blurry recollection of what just happened. I remember Hanako and her friends coming to me and harassing me, but nothing after that until I looked down to see her bloody face under me. It's blurry, like I'm trying to watch a movie through a rain-streaked window. All I remember is this horrible feeling coming over me, consuming me...

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear Izaya burst out laughing one more time after I've asked him time and time again to _shut up_. He seems to think that what happened back there was funny, even though one of the only things I remember is seeing Hanako's bloody face. Is that what he thinks is funny? Me beating on some poor, defenceless girl? OK, maybe not defenceless, but it's really driving me crazy, the way he's laughing at that. It's not even his usual subtle laugh either – it seems more like a full-out happy laugh, like he just went to see the funniest movie of a lifetime. To be completely honest, I find myself slightly glad to see him laughing at that, at the blood-covered face of that poor girl, but I'm biased because of what has happened between us. She has always hated me, and I her, but what I did was going too far.

What I did...

What did I do? Did she really deserve what she got?

"Shio-chan!" Izaya cries happily as he dances in front of me, grinning like a madman... well, in that case I guess he's grinning like himself. "You were amazing! That girl was so scared of you, she couldn't even say a word against that..." He pauses now, but is still grinning, but he looks at the blood on my hands and my clothes, and the bags that he brought along with us. "What did you use to beat her with anyway?"

I look away from him in shame, guilt suddenly clouding my judgement. Yes, she's cruel and yes, she probably deserved what she got, but why did I do it? Even after all I've been through, it's not like me. Even after all the betrayal and the lies that have been filling my head, even after everything that's been happening, I – Ishiskawa Shiori – do not do things like that.

"Picture frames," I whisper to him, and he bursts out laughing again.

"Amazing!" he cries, raising his hands to the sky. He dances around in a circle now, excitement radiating from him as he sings to himself and laughs melodramatically. A few seconds later, though, he stops and looks at me, seeing my dark expression. He comes over to me, bends down to see my face clearly, which I have taken the liberty of covering with my long black hair, and he wipes it away from my face. "Shio-chan?" he addresses me. "Why do you look so sad, after a revenge so sweet?"

I just look at him in horror, my expression quickly going from that of angst to that of anger as I push him away from me. What is he saying? Why is he so happy for my undeserved victory?

"What is wrong with you?" I demand of him, and he just stares at me in confusion. Does he really not realize what's wrong here? "Why can't you see that what I just did is horrible! I almost killed her!"

"Yes," he says cheerfully, "and it was beautiful."

My eyes widen now as I look at him, and I can't help but gasp at his indecency. I sense that he is slightly put out by this, but he still manages to keep that sick smile on his face and his eyes as dark and amused as always – actually, they seem even more amused than usual right now.

"Seriously," I breathe, "You can't be... I started thinking that you were actually _sane_ lately, and now this? You've completely surprised me, Orihara Izaya! I thought that maybe you were at least _slightly_ normal, but obviously you haven't even got the slightest inkling as to what that word means!"

Still he stares at me, confused. I don't know if it's whether he doesn't know what to say, or if he's shocked at my reaction, or what he's thinking – I never know what he's thinking. He never _lets_ me know what he's thinking.

"Izaya!" I stomp my foot impatiently as I wait for a response, but after a few moments his grin becomes a smirk, and he continues to stare at me, but apparently he knows my desire for an answer is strong as ever, so he sighs and turns away from me, seeming disappointed somehow. That irks me so much, especially because I have no idea why he's disappointed.

"You're right," he says, raising his hands to shoulder height, as if saying he knows nothing. "I don't know anything about being normal – I never have been normal – but I know about you, Shio-chan, and you're not normal either." He turns to face me again, and now he puts his hands in his pockets as he turns on his heel, reminding me a little like a fluttering black and brown feather as he does so. He starts to pace in front of me, like he always does, and I find that he's suddenly distressed. He doesn't show it, but I can see it in his movements and hear it in the way he talks. I've gotten to know him pretty well over the past few weeks, and I think I know when I've angered or annoyed him. Right now, though, is not one of those times. He's laughing and pacing, and it's clear to me that he's showing me his true emotions at this moment – he's having fun.

"You know," he says as he continues to pace around me, "You would have killed her if I wasn't there, wouldn't you? If I hadn't stopped you, you would have bludgeoned her to death – or you would have at least continued until you were arrested again. Am I right?"

Probably, yes.

I don't answer him, though, because I know I'll just tell him exactly what I'm thinking about his newest question.

"Of course I'm right," he says softly to himself, laughing again. He knows me too well. "I suppose I should have guessed that you were going to feel guilty about that once you came back to your senses, considering you are human, and therefore harbour human emotions. You're just not a very predictable human all the time. Sometimes you are, but other times you make me laugh so hard, I feel like I'm going to pee myself – like today." His grin starts to come back, and he chuckles under his breath, as if thinking to himself, _That was great. I should get her to do it again sometime._ "Anyway, I think I jumped ahead of myself there, because I thought that you would have figured it out already, although maybe you're just not smart enough to do that – or maybe your memories really haven't come back, like Namie thought they would." He pauses, as if to see my reaction to this, but I just continue staring at him, waiting patiently for his point. "In any case, I think you should know that it wasn't completely you doing that. It was also a little part of your brain that Namie tampered with a few years ago. I think that maybe this girl that you were beating on so efficiently, might have been the trigger for this thing. Or, maybe you just had a mental breakdown."

I stare at him, appalled at what I'm hearing.

"Wait, Izaya," I say to him, and he turns to face me fully now, and smiles at me. He knows what he's doing to me, and it doesn't make him feel in the least bit guilty. "What are you saying? That this was some kind of side effect of the experiments done on me?"

"Ah, now you're catching on," he says cheerfully. "Actually, there's something else you should know, and that is that most of the people they catch and let go are failed experiments. You were one of those failed experiments, and usually those failed experiments don't end up so happy in the end."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice urgent.

"Well..." He hesitates, obviously not sure of whether I should hear this or not. He's considering telling me, but I can see that he's leaning more toward the not telling me side, though I don't know why. Could it be because of my potential reaction? Then, he makes up his mind. "Mostly, they start to hallucinate and lose control and lose control of their emotions... depending on the experiment that they had done on them... and they – eventually – lose their minds."

This strikes me with a hard hit, and I feel my heart jump either into my stomach or my throat, I'm not really sure which.

"So that... today..." I whisper in horror, and he nods, smiling comfortably.

"Yep!" he says happily at my terrified face, "That was the beginning symptoms of you going insane. I hope you enjoy it, because if you haven't hallucinated anything too frightening yet, then you will later on."

"Izaya..." I gasp, "Why didn't I know about this before? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important," he tells me simply in a matter-of-fact tone. He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You didn't think it was important?" I yell at him angrily. "Izaya, I'm going to go insane! I'm already starting to go insane! I lost it in the mall – you know that's not like me! I-" Suddenly, I stop when I remember another time that I hallucinated, though it wasn't a big thing. I thought it was just my paranoia at the time, playing tricks on my ears and making me hear things that any paranoid person would hear, but it makes sense now.

I was walking away from a teacher who shares the same surname as me, and I thought he said he was going to kill me. It turned out he was only threatening to call the principal, but still... it scared me half to death. I thought he said it was going to kill me, and now it makes sense to me as to why.

"Shio-chan?" Izaya says as he comes toward me, but I barely notice as he touches my face, as if to make sure I'm still here. "See?" he mutters, "This is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you would freak out like this."

"I'm not freaking out!" I snap at him suddenly, and he backs away from me at my harsh tone, but he's still amused with me. "Don't tell me I'm freaking out, because I'm not! See? I'm not! I'm just not entirely sure how to react to the fact that I'm going _insane_!"

He sighs at me, seeming exasperated as he leans against the wall beside me.

"It won't happen fast," he tells me, but I only let out a harsh laugh at that.

"Great!" I cry, throwing my hands up in the air as I step away from the wall and walk around in front of him. "Great, that's just great, Izaya! You know exactly what a girl likes to hear! Yay! I'm not going to go insane quickly, so that I won't feel the effects at all, but rather slowly and painfully, with extreme paranoia and a growing hate for you, and everything and everyone else I know! Who will I attack next, Kida Masaomi? What will I see next?"

"Shio-chan," he says to me, "I think you need to calm down."

I sigh and try to relax my body and mind as I step away from him, holding my aching head in my hands. "You're right," I say from between my fingers. "I'm overreacting..." Great. Another sign of my impending insanity.

"You know..." he tells me after a few minutes, and I pull my face up from behind my hands and look at him curiously. He looks thoughtful for a moment before his eyes come back to me, "I think I know someone who could probably help you with this. He's an underground doctor, so he might have had other people come to him with similar problems, all from the same place, of course."

I let out a sigh as I lower my hands, suddenly hopeful again. Of course Izaya would know someone like that – he is an informant, right?

"What's his name?" I ask, "Can you take me to him?"

As usual, Izaya is as mysterious as ever, but a smile comes across his face and he turns and starts walking away.

"Hey-!" I begin, but he cuts me off when he looks back at me with those all-knowing eyes, and he talks to me in that constant smooth voice.

"Follow me."

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****So, did you like it? Let me know! Meh, whatever, lol, you know the drill. XD I was going to make it longer, but I have to catch the bus tomorrow, so... yeah... and it's really late, and I'm practically falling asleep in this chair. Thus, goodnight, my dears. :)**


	18. Chapter 18

****OK, so first of all, sorry to those who were confused about the existence of an 18th chapter after I took it down. (My bad~) S****econd, I appreciate the reviews I got for the non-existent chapter, but I hope you like this one just as much. ^^**

****DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Durarara****

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CHAPTER 18

He takes me to an apartment building and we head straight to the elevator. The building isn't huge or luxurious or anything, but there is a lobby and an elevator, which is more than I can say for my old apartment building. When we step into it a man comes in right behind us. He's carrying a briefcase and is wearing a suit, and he has that serious look that businessmen always have, like he's always thinking of how to take someone down, and win all their money in the process. It's kind of disturbing, actually. I hate businessmen, but that's probably biased of me to say, considering the person after my life runs a company... not really Ch_that_ kind of company, but it's still a company, and to me they're all the same. Whether they're after money or drugs, it all adds up to one thing: greed. Their only goal is to take over a world that doesn't know they exist.

I laugh darkly in my mind as I relate that back to my old self, before my parents were totally disintegrated in that explosion. I was just like every other teenager back then: unable to discern myself from God, thinking I controlled every aspect of my life. When they were killed, though, I learned otherwise. Then, when I met Izaya, I learned the same lesson again, only tenfold. Even now, today, when I stand next to this man in the elevator, I'm still learning it, yet somehow I'm learning said lesson from a man who considers himself the God of many things... including me. I sigh as I look away from both men who are currently sharing this elevator with me, and at that I feel Izaya's eyes on me.

This is ridiculous. I'm ridiculous. I say I want to get away from him, but then I just run back, like a lost puppy finding its master once again. It's not that I can't get away from him; it's that I don't want to get away from him. He's the one who told me the truth about my parents, and who paid my bail and gave me a place to live... he even informed me that I'm going insane - although I think that he's the only person in the world who would wait so long to inform someone of that (and he was reluctant when doing so too).

I know these are old questions of mine, and even I'm getting tired of hearing them, but I have to wonder... why did he take me in? Why does he always meet me after school? Why does he always harass me like he does, but then virtually rip my head off when I'm out too late? Why does he always say he practically lives at his office, but then comes almost every night to his apartment, just so he can harass me? Why is it that he meets me on the roof of my school almost every day at lunch? Speaking of which, why do I always go to the roof? I'll admit that I look forward to seeing him most of the time, but I have been getting closer to Kida lately as well (who has invited me to go to his house numerous times recently, but I suspect it's mostly because of his immense hate toward Izaya).

Considering all these things, how Izaya has been acting lately, I would almost say that he's being protective, but I would only say that if I didn't know any better. However, I do know better, and I know him. I know he isn't like that, and if he is protective of me, then why does he constantly harass me, abuse me, and keep secrets from me? I have a feeling that he wasn't telling me the whole truth about my impending insanity, but I have no proof of that, so I guess I'll just let it go until he gives me an unintentional hint, at which point I will question him thoroughly... if he doesn't humiliate me on the kitchen table again.

To be honest, though, despite the nuisance he can be the majority of the time, he actually isn't that bad... except for the fact that he only ever talks about how amazing people are, and that he wants to know what goes on in their heads... to be honest, though, I don't think I care anymore.

I hear him start to hum to the elevator music beside me, and I sigh as I look away, as if pretending not to know him. I catch the man who is in the elevator with us looking at me, and I return the glance, but I don't smile politely or anything; I just look away again. I realize that it's rude, but I don't really care right now. He doesn't know who I am... but of course that's not the first thing that comes to my mind. The first thing that I thought about that man is that he works for Yagiri Namie, and she's found out who I have contact with. This must be what they call paranoia, because that would mean that either Izaya told her everything, even our current location, which would be impossible to do without me knowing right now. Or she would have to be psychic.

I look up at the vent above us, the hatch that's always in an elevator's ceiling, and I remember a few different movies I've seen in which assassins have opened it and come down to kill their target, using the elemen of surprise to their advantage. I look away from it almost immediately, shuddering at the thought of my throat being slit by someone I don't even see coming.

We get off the elevator without any incident, which I find surprising, considering Izaya's here - and I'm here. He leads me down the hall to a door at the end of it, on which he knocks. I find myself surprised when I see that it's a normal knock, without any unique signature or something. Honestly, I don't know what I expected from him just now, but it wasn't for his knuckles to rap so _normally_ on that door. I guess I was kind of hoping for something I would likely call an "Izaya-knock". I'm not sure why I was expecting him to do something strange.

"So..." I say hesitantly, and he turns to me with a questioning look on his face. "This isn't going to be some sort of trap you've led me to, is it? Yagiri Namie isn't hiding behind that door just waiting to blow me up, is she?"

"If she was, how would I know?" he asks me, for which I give him an accusatory look like he's just said something stupid. He looks at me from what I call his "antagonistic-arrogance angle", which is where he tilts his head up slightly and looks down at a person, as if telling them through body language that he's so much smarter and so much better than they are. In this case "they" is me, and he is... well, he's himself: arrogant as ever. The worst part about this angle is that he always looks amused while using it. "Unlike you, I'm able to keep my mouth shut, and keep secrets to myself."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand bluntly. "If you want to accuse me of something, accuse me right!"

"Fine," he says, as he suddenly going into his "malicious angle", which is when he bends down to my height and tilts his head down, so that it looks like he wants to look down, but no! He looks up at me with a familiar amused cruelty that I'm slowly - very slowly - growing accustomed to. He comes toward me and corners me against the wall for about the fiftieth time since I've known him, putting his hand right next to my head and making me feel like I have no escape. He seems to like my reaction to this, because he does it a lot. I hate it. Every time, I become like a robot, obeying his every whim. "Shio-chan, tell me... how is it that Kida knows that you're living with me? What did you tell him about our private life?"

His words strike me, and I can't help but let out a slightly embarrassed gasp at how he says 'private life' like we have secrets that need to be covered up, like he's talking about something - I hate to say it, but - kinky.

"Wh-Wh-What do you mean by 'private life'?" I ask him, and I see his "malicious angle" suddenly turn into his "terrifying-rip-you-to-bits angle". This angle is a lot like the "malicious angle" in the way his face is positioned, but it's all about his eyes. They darken dangerously, and this, I realize, is another thing I am a slave to. He only needs to give me one glance of his "terrifying-rip-you-to-bits angle" and I will have a tongue looser than silly string.

"He accused me of raping you," he goes on, and suddenly a little squeak comes out of my mouth, and I turn my head away, but I'm not sure whether I should be laughing or crying right now. He's scary, yes, but he said that a little too bluntly. I'm afraid I can't keep it in, so I hide the smile with a palm over my mouth, just as the tiniest giggle finds its way out from between my lips. "That's not funny, Shio-chan," he says, and when I look at him again out of the corner of my eye I see that he's frowning at me.

He no longer harbours the "terrifying-rip-you-to-bits" face, nor is his head in the "malicious" position anymore. He's straightened it out so that he's looking at me directly. I think I've named this one before; It would be the... "harmless-and-slightly-cute-annoyed angle". However, his eyes show amusement. His hand moves from the wall to my face, and I feel myself flush slightly as he tilts my head up to get a better look at me. I swallow nervously, but I try to make it as discreet as possible for the sake of my dignity (or lack thereof).

"You don't think I'm that mean, do you?" he asks me jokingly, and I laugh slightly, but I don't even try to get my face out of his grip.

"It must have been a misunderstanding," I tell him, and his eyes narrow in suspicion. When I see this, I recognize it as his "give-it-up" face, which is really more of a threat than a warning. I put my hands up in front of me in a meek defense, and look away from him. "A-Alright, alright," I say anxiously. "I told him about the table thing... wh-when I first moved in with you... he... must have disregarded the 'pretended' and 'almost' I put in there. Maybe he thought I was defending you, but I wouldn't even dream of doing something so stupid."

Izaya sighs and lets go of my face now, and gives me some of my personal space back. I don't have a lot of that these days...

"You're smarter than you look," he teases me, tapping me gently on the nose. When he does this, I feel my heart jump a little bit in my chest, and he seems to notice the reaction I have, because he smiles and leaves the tip of his index finger on the ball of my nose, like he thinks that the red in my cheeks is somehow funny. Of course it's funny, everything is funny to him. "However, I do know that you're still keeping something from me."

"Oh, crap," I say without thinking about it first. I totally forgot about Mikajima Saki. I was actually talking to her when I brought up the table thing, but Kida was there too, and he overheard. I look away from Izaya again, this time aiming my grey eyes toward the other end of the hallway, and turning my head slightly so that it's almost parallel to my shoulder. I almost totally forget about the finger that still rests on my nose. "H-He took me to see... Mikajima... Saki," I mutter uncomfortably. I remember how she talked about him, how she was always praising him... how she said his name like she was so close to him. That bitter feeling is back now, and I squeeze my hands into fists by my side. I don't know if he notices that or not, but he seems to notice the look on my face. It must have changed from slightly nervous to spiteful, for that is what I feel now.

"Ah, Saki-chan," he sings to himself, and when I hear the nostalgia in his voice all that comes to mind is that terrible, bitter feeling. "How is she?"

"Fine." It comes out more curtly than I intended, and I hear him chuckle lightly at my tone. He stands up now, which brings my attention back to him, and lifts his finger from the end of my nose. He seems amused, but also, the air around him is suddenly different. Is that _pride _I see in those dark eyes? Great, so now he's proud of himself for having caught Mikajima's attention. He's so arrogant - I hate him!

Now I see that he's acquiring the "ready-to-tease-you angle" that he uses on me whenever he sees that I'm in a bad mood because of him. How he ever knows it's because of him is a mystery to me, but those eyes see everything. His eyes only ever have to take one glance at me, and I'm done for. He knows everything that goes on in this little head of mine.

"Aw, Shio-chan, don't be jealous," he says, and I let out a little squeak of surprise as he takes my hands and puts one of them on each other his shoulders. Then he bends down to my height again, so that they bend at the elbows and I end up hugging him around his neck. "After all, we both know that the only one I'm interested in is right here in this hallway."

He's so close to me now that I can feel his warm breath on my cheeks, and hear his voice, no matter how softly he's speaking. I press myself as far into the wall as I can, but he just follows until he's even closer to me than before. I'm eye-to-eye with him, and I see the amusement double as my face goes burgundy - not pink, not red, but _burgundy _- and I swallow hard. What is he planning?

"I-Izaya..." I begin, anxiety clear in my voice, my body trembling, my heart pounding, my eyes going wide as they sweep from one end of the hallway to another, and then back at him.

"The truth is, Shio-chan..." His fingers brush against my cheek, and my breath catches in my throat as I feel him wipe my bangs gently away from my eyes. He comes even closer to me with that, and he finishes his sentence. "It's me."

I just stare at him for a second before I register what he just said. When I realize what it was, I feel a wave of despair wash over me. My red face, my tendency to tremble when I'm nervous, my anxiety at his closeness, the awkwardness that I feel every time - _every time_! He used it all against me. He used every weakness I have, and he plotted the most devious, the most repulsive thing that a guy could ever pull. He made me think things that have never come into my head before now. He made me _consider_ things that I never would have considered without that one little push, that one game that he can't resist! He loves to humiliate me like this. He _loves_ it! I can't stand it, and that's probably _why _he loves it so much.

I feel like I should get angry at him, like I should smash his head against the door, but to be honest I feel like all the strength in my body has been drained. I don't know why, but what he just did has put me into the worst mood I have ever been in - and that's saying something. Why despair? Shouldn't I be feeling anger right about now?

"You're a horrible person," I tell him as I lower my head in embarrassment. "That was disturbing."

"Was it?" Izaya asks me playfully, his hand coming back to my face to tilt my head up to look at him again. I glare at him as he smiles at me, laughing silently. "I think you liked it."

"You-" I begin, my tone accusatory as I push myself away from the wall, but I'm interrupted before this can become an incident.

"U-Um..." I hear a voice from beside us, and both of our heads are turned in the direction of the voice. I see a man standing in the doorway, looking slightly awkward at what he just witnessed. He has brown hair and he wears glasses over light brown eyes, and a white lab coat covers his shoulders. "I-Izaya-san... You wanted something?"

"I did," Izaya says thoughtfully, his eyes coming back to me. "Now I'm not so sure I'll need it, though."

"What?" I breathe in horror.

Now Izaya turns his eyes toward the man in the doorway, who I assume is the doctor that Izaya told me about. "She looks like she's about to die, doesn't she?" he asks the doctor, who looks at me from behind his oval glasses and raises an eyebrow.

"She does, actually. Is this why you're here?"

"Yep," Izaya answers as he takes a step back and pushes me toward the man in the doorway.

"How long have you been there?" I demand of the doctor. He seems really awkward right now, though, which I guess I can understand. I mean, what Izaya just did to me isn't really the epitome of innocence. Then again, a lot of things he does aren't exactly the epitome of innocence.

"Long enough," he answers awkwardly. "Um, would you like to come in?"

"Wait a minute," I say, addressing Izaya now as I suddenly find myself ignoring this other man. "When did you talk to Kida?" Of course, this question comes to me _now_ of all times. _After_ this man has stripped me of all dignity and the walls of self-preservation I have built up for myself over the years. He seems to be doing that a lot lately.

"When I was following you," he answers casually, and my despair suddenly turns back into its usual form of annoyance.

"You were...?" I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted, so I just stare at him.

"You don't really think I would let you go out alone, do you Shio-chan?"

"Well, you haven't in the past, but..." I can't think of anything to say after that, and when he doesn't finish it for me, I find myself in an awkward position, unsure of what to say in a hallway that has suddenly been consumed by silence. So, I do the smart thing and change the subject. I turn to the doctor and introduce myself before anything else.

"I'm Ishikawa Shiori," I tell him with a small bow, which he returns.

"Kishitani Shinra," he replies. "So... would you like to come in?" he asks again, seeing as I rudely ignored him the last time he asked.

I nod, but then as soon as I enter the apartment, I turn to the man and ask, "Where's your bathroom?"

"Sure," he says, "It's just down the hall and to the left. Oh, and be careful for the door next to it, because it might be open. Just don't look inside if it is."

I raise an eyebrow questioningly here, but he doesn't see me as he's heading toward the living room, with Izaya right behind him. Right before I start down the hall, I see Izaya glance back at me, and he smirks when he sees me looking at him, and that same look of triumph squeezes itself out from within his eyes. At the look on his face, I feel myself being engulfed once again by despair as I remember the horrible experience in the hallway, and I turn and head straight for the bathroom.

He's so annoying.

When I close the door to the bathroom, I sit on the toilet after putting the lid down, and set my elbows on my knees, so that my face can rest, hidden, in my palms. I feel the same despair as I felt in the hallway come back now, and my shoulders convulse momentarily as a sob is torn from my throat. I'm so pathetic. Those things that I thought while he was teasing me, those horrible, terrible things, should never have entered my mind. They should never have surfaced. They should never have been there in the first place!

Questions as to whether it was me he was talking about or not... wondering why my heart always beats so fast when he does that to me! At one point I wrestled with the thought that maybe I feel something for him, but then, when he said it was himself that he loves so much, I negated those questions, those horrible, terrible, unsightly emotions that started to well up inside me!

Why was I so hopeful? What was I hoping for? How can I be so stupid, so unreasonable? So... so... so pathetic!

I don't know what those feelings were in the hallway, but it was not hate that I felt for him at that moment - definitely not hate, nor was it even annoyance. I was... nervous, anxious... no. Not those either. I remember the way my face went red, and how hard my heart pounded in my chest as he came closer and closer to me. Actually, I hate to admit it, but I think that what I felt after he pulled away from me was more disappointment than anything. When he said that the one he was interested in was in the hallway, I don't know why, but I was the first person that came to my mind. Wait, maybe that's normal. Maybe that's what any other person would think too. Wait, what if I was supposed to think he was talking about himself?

In that case he knows I didn't guess right. He knows, he knows. Of course he knows! He sees everything with those eyes. Ugh, how can he be so... stupid? Useless! He's just a brat! A little boy in the body of a twenty-three-year-old adult man! I hate him! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!

Why do I care so much about this? It should have just been a one-time thing like everything else! It doesn't matter! I should be used to his bullying by now! I really should be, so what is wrong with me? Why do I even care?

Maybe it is that time of the month. Maybe I'm just having my period (I hate those things). No, I would know if I was having my period. I would know, because I would feel it, or I would take _everything_ - not just one thing - and twist it to be the most annoying, outrageous thing that has ever happened to me! I get very emotional during those times. Wait a minute, I don't think I got my period last month, did I? No, I don't think I did!

I groan out loud as a horrible thought suddenly comes to mind, and I bend backwards over the back of the toilet.

I'm pregnant! That has to be it! I'm freaking pregnant! Wait, no, that's not possible. I haven't had sex - unless...

Suddenly, a terrible mental picture comes to my mind, in which Izaya is holding my naked, sleeping body in his arms and laughing triumphantly as he- Ah! Stop there! That's not right! He's not like that! I know he isn't, he only teases me with that! He _pretends_! That's it, that's as far as he goes! I refuse to let my imagination take it any further.

Enough! I have to calm myself down. I have to do something to take these horrible thoughts away from me!

Wait a minute, stress! Geez, I can't believe I didn't think of that until now - it's so obvious. Stress can mess up a girl's cycle, not just being pregnant... actually there are a few things that can mess up a girl's cycle, not just stress and being pregnant from nothing.

My condition is probably one of those many things that can delay such a thing. Plus, it's not much of a surprise, is it? I mean, obviously, considering what happened today, there are countless emotional issues. Maybe me freaking out over something I wouldn't normally freak out over is one of them.

I stand up now and go to the mirror, staring at myself as I try to gather my thoughts, sort them out. I'm trying to calm down, but it's not an easy task, especially after something so scarring... even though it wouldn't have scarred me if I wasn't so sensitive today.

After a few more minutes I manage to put myself back together again, and I head out to meet the two men in the living room, which isn't that hard to find.

"Ah, Ishikawa-san," Kishitani says when he sees me come in. He and Izaya are sitting across from each other in the living room, Izaya on the couch, while Kishitani sits in a large chair. They both have drinks on the table between them, and Izaya looks like he's enjoying himself... which, of course, means that he's been harassing this poor doctor. That's probably why he looks so happy to see me. "Izaya-san has told me all about you, and I've had a lot of other cases like this."

He stands up now and walks past me, beckoning to me, so I follow him into the kitchen. I watch from the entrance as he reaches into a cupboard in the kitchen and rummages through it, putting things on the counter and throwing other things over his shoulder randomly, like they mean nothing. I hear Izaya come up behind me, and he leans against the door frame beside me, but I refuse to look at him as I lean against the other side of the door frame. When Kishitani-san comes back he's carrying a small bottle, out of which he spills two small round blue pills, which he holds out to me.

"This won't cure what's happening to you completely," he tells me, "but it will slow the process. I've been working on a cure for this for a long time, but I haven't managed to find anything, except to slow the process."

I stare at the little blue pills for a few seconds before I reach out slowly and take them from him, and now I look down at them in my palm. "You made these?" I ask him, and he nods silently.

"Don't worry," he assures me, "I've tried them on numerous subjects, so I know they work, however there are different effects depending on the subject using them. There is one thing that I always tell all of my patients who use these, though, and that's that they shouldn't be alone a lot."

I look up at him now, confused as I enquire to him, "Why's that?"

"Well, I don't know much about psychology," he says with a casual wave of his hand, as if it's no big deal, "but being alone too much already has severe effects on the brain, so for someone in your condition, I've noticed that it tends to speed up the effects of the illness."

Illness...? What kind of illness is this? It makes people go insane after Yagiri Namie erases their memory... what exactly is this woman? She seems worse than a sadist, or a sociopath. She sounds more like a plain monster.

"Shiori," Izaya says suddenly, and I turn my head in the direction of his voice, to see him looking at me with unreadable brown eyes. "If that's the case, then you can't stay with me anymore for as long as Shinra-san says you need supervision. I'm not at my apartment a lot, so you would be alone."

For some reason I feel my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach at this, and I suddenly become defensive, like he just insulted me or something. "You're there a lot more than you used to be," I argue with him.

"That's true, but Namie is starting to get suspicious." His tone is infuriatingly casual, like this is just another minor thing in the not-so-hectic life of Orihara Izaya. "If I keep ditching like that-"

"I don't care!" I snap at him suddenly. "I don't care if she finds out I'm living with you! Where else am I going to go, Izaya? I don't _have_ anywhere else! I was evicted, remember? That's how I ended up staying with you in the first place!"

Izaya doesn't answer me out loud, but he glances at the doctor, which is the exact place that my eyes are led to. Kishitani looks a little confused for a moment, so it seems to me that Izaya made this decision without telling either of us beforehand.

"You'll stay with Shinra-san," Izaya says, and Kishitani looks surprised by this, but when he looks at me, I see the same pity I've seen many times before in my lifetime. "It might be problematic at first," he adds as he continues to look at Shinra, "but she'll get used to Celty-san eventually."

"Celty-san?" I repeat, confused. Weirdly enough, I think I've heard that name before.

* * *

****I hope I didn't make Shinra too serious in this one. Also, I've had a sneaking suspicion lately that I have been making Izaya slightly OOC, which I hope is wrong. Let me know what you think. ^^**


	19. Chapter 19

**Muahahahaha! My evilicityness knows no bounds! I shall always be known as the person who said they were going to bring Celty into the story soon, and then neglected to do so! Hahahahaha! I'm not quite as crazy as the Joker, though... or Izaya... or Isaac from Baccano (which I just started watching today, and it is utterly brilliant. Wootness! All I really know is that the gangs are looking for Dallas, and everything else is really confusing... anyway, onward!)... Actually I'm not as evil as a lot of people, but I do enjoy a good gory anime once in awhile. Hehehe... oooh! If you've seen (and fell in love with) Shiki, raise your hand now! If you do, you get a prize... which doesn't actually exist... but it's a good prize!**

**Anyway... I don't own anything of Durarara. Just thought you should know.**

**~Enjoy~**

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"She'll be home soon," Shinra-san says, looking at the clock nonchalantly, but in his eyes I see a hidden excitement, like that statement has just made his day so much better. Then he glances at me and smiles in an odd, yet friendly way. "I'll go get your room ready for you, and you can just wait out here until Celty gets back." Again, I notice that strange light in his eyes when he says that woman's name, and I feel momentarily like I recognize it, but I'm not sure where from. Shinra-san smiles at me once more before hastily leaving the room.

I hear Izaya laugh softly beside me, bringing my attention back to him, but I turn away quickly after my eyes register him, and I frown deeply. I'm still angry with him from my time in the bathroom, not to mention the way he pawned me off just now. I honestly couldn't care less what he's laughing about, but I hear him mutter something inaudible in the next few moments, and that really ticks me off. I turn to him now and glare dangerously in his direction.

"What's your problem?" I demand of him, and I'm almost - "almost" because it's never going to happen - hoping that the horrid smirk on his face will disappear in the next few seconds. I know it's wishful thinking, but he annoys me so much right now that I would love to see him cry. Instead, he raises his eyebrows in amusement and looks at me with his arrogant angle, and I suddenly feel like breathing fire at him. "What's your problem?" I demand again, as if to make my statement clearer to him. "You can't just pawn me off like that, you know. I'm not a toy that you can just do what you like with!"

"Really?" he teases me, leaning toward me slightly with a look that I will never be able to measure up to when it comes to the danger effect. Sometimes I think that not even Heiwajima Shizuo can measure up to him when it comes to inducing fear. "I hadn't noticed. Actually, I thought you would have figured it out by now: all humans are my toys. I manipulate them and do what I like with them, as I please. If that indicates that they're not my toys, then I must be dead wrong about my entire life. What other mysteries would you like to help me unravel, oh Shiori-sama?"

I feel my face heat up slightly at that, along with the smooth, mischievous look on his face that always seems to paralyze me. Ugh, he's so annoying. Why is it that he has so many expressions and movements that make my body simply stop moving? I hate him - and because of that, I don't take the time to consider my next words carefully.

"I'm not talking about other people! I'm talking about myself," I tell him, maybe a little too boldly. "_I don't care_ about other people!"

He laughs out loud this time, and leans against the wall once more to steady himself and keep his body upright. When he looks down at me again, he looks doubly as amused than he did a few seconds ago, and I find myself feeling slightly sick at the grin that spreads across his face; those small, beady eyes are boring into me, ripping my heart apart to find the secret in the centre. He's laughing at me again, and he's studying me again. He never gets enough of that, it seems.

"What's so different about you, Shiori?" he asks me, but with the tone he's using it doesn't sound like he's challenging me at all, but rather like he's looking for an answer that he already knows. I feel my expression soften slightly at his voice, and my eyebrows come together in a slight frown, making my confusion clear to him. He leans in toward me now, and asks me again, his hand coming to hold my face in his palm, "What's so different about you?" Again, he's looking for an answer that he already knows, but is he expecting me to know too? How am I supposed to know the answer if I can't get into that twisted mind of his?

I tear my face away from him and look away, finding myself embarrassed at my lack of knowledge of this answer that he's looking for so aggressively. I feel my hands tighten into fists by my sides, which he seems to notice, and now that his hand is no longer holding my face they revert to holding my hands in his, though inconspicuously, as if he's passing some sort of note to me that no one else is allowed to see. He leans even closer to me, until I can feel his breath on my skin, his fingers tightening around my fists. I can feel that grin still on his face, that smirk he wears whenever I know he's enjoying himself.

"You don't know?" he whispers to me, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck prickle and stand up, at the same time as a strange warmth envelops me, wrapping me from head to toe. My heart speeds up just like it did in the hallway, and as I remember that incident I feel the warmth turn to anger and humiliation. I'm almost tempted to take a step back from him, but something stops me. Whether it's that warmth that has grown so familiar to me or the feeling of his hands covering mine like they are now, or perhaps even my lack of willpower to be so far away from him, I don't know. Whatever it is, though, instead of moving away, I feel myself lean into him as my pained expression is smoothed out to become more calm.

I can almost feel his lips against my cheek, the warm blood pumping through his veins. At least I know that he isn't going to step away from me. He's here right now. His warmth is comforting to this empty vessel.

"Do you want me to tell you?"

I'm curious now, mostly because of the look on his face, that mischievous, secretive air that blankets him always, that shines brightly from those eyes so full of life and love. He is so unbelievably strange, and I can't seem to get through to him no matter what I do, no matter what I say. How many times have I changed my approach to get into his mind? How many times have I tried to see past the dangerous outside to touch his soul? No, those aren't the right questions - not at all.

Rather, how long has it been since I stopped trying?

I hear him chuckle under his breath, and his mouth opens as if to tell me this dreadful secret that he can't wait to humiliate me with, but in the next second he leans away from me, taking a step back into the wall and letting go of my hands. He laughs loudly, as if he's just played some sort of cruel joke, and I am immediately brought out of my trance. Ugh! He did it again! He always does this, always! Why can't he just control himself once in awhile? Why does he always have to go out of his way to do this to me?

When he's done laughing at me, he turns to the hallway where Shinra-san left a few minutes ago, and he grins at the doctor that I only now realize has been there for... how long? I really hope he didn't see any of that. Stupid Izaya! I hate him! He always does this at the worst time!

Thankfully, the doctor doesn't seem too awkward at the moment, so that's a good sign, I guess. He still seems a little stiff and uncomfortable, though, which puts me on a slight edge.

"I'm back!" he announces energetically, and I feel a frown come to my face at his energetic tone. Great, he's almost as annoying as Izaya... but I get a sense that he's twice as strange. "So, Shiori-san, are you all set?"

"I didn't come here prepared, you know," I say, but then I remember the clothes that I bought today at the mall before I became a dangerous target for the police. I didn't think of it before, but I guess I can't go back to school now... after all that, the police might be looking for me too. There is no doubt in my mind that if they find me I'll be charged with attempted murder. Great. Why am I being attacked by this thought now, of all times? Wait, this situation also begs the question as to whether Izaya planned all this or not, but if he could somehow make Hanako and her friends harass me all of a sudden, wouldn't that mean that he has power equivalent to a god? That I know he isn't.

"On the other hand..." I mutter as I look back at the door to see the bags that Izaya so caringly brought with us, "I guess I did."

"Not entirely," Izaya corrects me, and my attention is forced on him once again. "You didn't buy pyjamas, or any hygiene products." At the mention of hygiene products I'm reminded of my time of the month, which is scheduled to come soon, and my face reddens considerably. I let it slide, though, hoping silently that he doesn't realize the double meaning of what he just said.

"Well, you can go pick those up for me. It's not like I can go get them," I say harshly, still trying to get the idea of his almost-unnoticed double meaning out of my head. "All my stuff is at ho- your place anyway." I stop myself halfway through the word 'home' before it can come out of my mouth, hoping that no one else noticed, but I seriously doubt that neither of the men in this room did, especially because of the expression I made right after almost spewing such a long-forgotten word.

Izaya doesn't say anything about it, though, which I find mildly surprising, seeing as he usually takes every opportunity possible to harass me. Maybe he knows this is a sensitive topic for me? No, that can't be it. If he doesn't respect my personal space, then why would he respect my fears and doubts enough to stay away from them?

"I should go then," Izaya announces after a few seconds of silence, and I instinctively look up at him with a pained look on my face that I can't seem to keep away. I feel that same hate for him as always come welling to the surface of my heart and mind. When he looks at me, seeing the expression on my face, I try hard to restrain myself from saying anything until he leaves. I don't know what I would say in this moment, but I'm sure it would be something that would either make him turn around and start harassing me again, or he would get mad at me and silently leave. I don't want him to be silent, though, because every time he is, it's not really silence at all, but more like a horrible scream of rage.

"Shio-chan," he addresses me from the door, and I harden my expression when I feel his eyes on me.

"What?" I snap, and he smirks at me before turning around.

"Nothing," he says in a rather animated voice, "I'll be back tomorrow with your stuff. Don't kill yourself while I'm gone." He smiles and waves when this jumps out of his mouth.

Wow. What an unbelievably inappropriate comment... but that's Izaya, I guess. He doesn't care if it's inappropriate or the most appropriate thing in the world. That might be one of the things that makes me think he's insane sometimes. He couldn't care less about any kind of etiquette, let alone how to act normally in a social situation... or when he's pawning off the girl who lives with him to another man who also works with Namie - my worst enemy - from time to time.

"Shut up and leave already!" I growl at him, and he grins even wider.

I see Shinra-san looking like he's holding back a stunted laugh when Izaya does what I ask for once.

As soon as the door closes behind him, I flop down in a chair and put my head down on the table, letting out a huge sigh. I hear Shinra-san do the same thing, but he doesn't slam his head down on the table. Wondering if we did that for different reasons, I look up now and see him slouching in his chair, his head practically falling off it's so far over the back of the chair. His arm is over his face, shielding his eyes from the world momentarily.

There's a moment of silence between us for a few minutes now, until I hear him mutter, "Two minutes."

I roll my eyes slightly and rest my chin on the table now, staring at the man in front of me, who looks about the same age as Izaya, but is a lot more... something. I can't quite pinpoint what it is I think of him, except that he's maybe about a year older than Izaya, and the two of them are completely different. Well, I can't really expect every man in their early twenties to be as twisted as my ignorance would suggest. Besides, I've only known one man in his early twenties for the past month or so, so what am I supposed to think? All I can do right now is keep my guard up until I get to know him better... or until I figure out where I've heard this Celty person's name before. Despite the fact that everything that I've been feeling has been to do with Izaya today (and pretty much every other day), this person's name is still in my mind, and the fact that I don't know where I've heard it before still bothers me. That's kind of sad, isn't it?

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**I hope you enjoyed it. I kind of did this chapter without knowing exactly what was going to happen in it, and it's kind of dull, I guess, haha. Anyway, I know my story moves slow sometimes, but I hope you can bear with me. Be patient, my minions! I mean, readers. No, I'm not planning to take over the world, what are you talking about?**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hello, children, and I apologize for the wait. I really do, but I think I've found the source of my writer's block - and that would be summer. I promise that once I go home to the Soo, I will post at least once a week! Not every day, though, that was insane. Insane, I say! Insane! For me, at least. Too much work, and for someone who is normally as lazy as a pile of dung (because a sack of potatoes is way overused in my mind), as well as a procrastinator, I was suffering indefinitely. I'm just glad I got a new chapter up! Woot!**

**I hope you like this one too, and don't worry, there will be just as much Izaya as there was before! Trust me, I can't live without my Izaya fix, and I know you can't either, so no worries. I think he'll be in the next chapter... or the chapter after that? Oh well, he's coming soon. ^^ No worries!**

**Anyway, I do not own anything of Durarara! Just so you know...**

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**Chapter 20**

It's been only a few seconds since Shinra said that last comment, and while he looks all relaxed and is patiently waiting for this Celty person to return, I'm still warring with myself over the words that, only just moments ago, were whirling round in my mind. That process is halted, though, when Shinra-san turns to me with an enthusiastic grin on his face that I don't remember seeing when Izaya was here. He seems almost childish, like he's thinking of doing something that would completely defy all the rules of adult logic. Suddenly, the arm over his face disappears, and he's now pointing at me with the vigorous enthusiasm that only just came to the surface. I jump back slightly in surprise, not expecting him to become so excited after Izaya's departure, but I have no choice to accept it nonetheless.

"Shiori-chan!" he exclaims happily, and I flinch slightly when I realize what he just called me. Wait a minute, did he just call me Shiori-_chan_? Seriously? No one should call me that, ever! Well, except for one person, but that's only because he forced it on me!

"U-Um... yes?" I greet him a little uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond to this. It's so weird to hear myself being called -_chan_ by anyone but Izaya.

He stands up now, as if taking my reserved reply as an invitation to harass me. He's still pointing at me.

"Do you play video games? You're probably really good at video games, right? Celty always plays with me, and she wins every time..." A pout now crosses his face and he looks away from me, crossing his arms over his chest. It's as though he has suddenly been possessed by an urge to be as childish as possible.

The only thing that crosses my mind right now, though, is a question as to why he's asking me this out of the blue. I guess it kind of makes sense for me to try to get to know him, considering we're going to be living with each other for the next... um... month? I hope it's just a month, at most. I would hate to stay here for more than that, although I don't want to go back to that gloomy apartment either. I decide to answer him, despite the impression he's giving to me right now. Don't I know any normal people anymore?

"Um, I stopped playing about five years ago," I mutter, and suddenly the pout disappears and is replaced by a cloud of confusion. His brown eyes meet my grey, and he raises one eyebrow while he lowers the other, and he frowns deeply.

"Hm... but didn't your parents die two years ago?"

I note how sensitively he approaches that subject, and look away from him in order to avoid my temper showing. So, I ignore him and put my head back down on the table, telling him that this conversation is over. He seems to get the hint, and sits down once again. He seems bored, though, and I don't really blame him. It's not like I'm the most entertaining person in the world, especially when I didn't ask to be here in the first place.

Even so, I should probably find something to talk about, right? I mean, after I blew him off for the video games (which, judging by his reaction, I see is a real success with others), the least I could do is start a new conversation... well, I guess I could, but to be honest I think it's a lot easier to start a conversation with Izaya than it is with this guy. Besides, Izaya is usually the one who starts the conversation, and it's rare that it's ever a real conversation, rather than him just teasing me. Ugh, what's wrong with me now? I can't believe I'm comparing these two, like they're actually similar, when I know that they're the furthest thing from it.

I lean back in my chair now and drop my head over the back, letting it hang there with all my hair just swaying from nothing but the slightest movement from my head. My arms drop by my sides, making it feel almost like they're being pulled out of their sockets by the sheer force of their own weight. I sigh heavily and stare at the ceiling, and I manage to catch myself right before I look at the clock and wonder when Izaya's coming back. Despite being one of the most annoying inhabitants of the world, he's actually pretty useful to have around as a time killer, if nothig else.

Oh, that's right: time. That subject brings me back to about two minutes ago, when Shinra-san mentioned that there were only two minutes until Celty-san gets back from her job. I wonder if she's really that punctual (that would be weird)... speaking of Celty, I remember the light in Shinra's eyes when he mentioned her name, and the excitement in his voice. I guess I would call it cute, if I was anywhere near as childish as he is... but I'm not.

My thoughts are interrupted, however, when I hear a key turn the lock in the other room, and the door opens, at which point Shinra jumps up and immediately heads to the other room, where I lose sight of him. However, when I hear an excited cry of, "Celty! You're back!" I think I've just identified the latest intruder, although she's not really an intruder at all. I sit up in my chair and look toward the living room, slowly standing to my feet.

Somehow, when that door opened, the apartment almost immediately filled with an ominous presence that I can't quite explain. It's like my throat is being closed off right now by sheer excitement and fear that I mistakenly did not anticipate when I heard the phrase 'get used to'. I should have guessed that this person wasn't normal, but like I always do in my stupid, clueless way, I ignored that part of the sentence and just focused on the name. Of course. It stuck out to me, although I still don't know why.

I stop at the place where the entrance connects with the hallway now, and I look upon the dark figure before me. It's a slim figure, a woman's figure, but I can't see her face because of the catlike yellow and black helmet that hides it so expertly with the black visor. Her suit, I notice, looks like it's made of leather, yet somehow it neglects to reflect the light around it. It's almost like a sheep that forgot to have wool; it doesn't really make sense to me. It's a slim-fitting rider's suit that - oddly enough - doesn't really look like a suit at all, but more like someone's shadow, and it doesn't help that the closer I get to the woman, and the more I stare at that black rider's suit and consider how strange it is, the more I feel that ominous presence. This presence - this ominous, dark presence - seems to be enveloping me in its deathly embrace.

Somehow, though, despite this feeling that is chilling me to the bones, I am not intimidated. In fact, it's the complete opposite: I'm entirely fascinated - captivated - by this creature that has now been forever implanted into my mind. Not only that, but from this being I sense no danger. This ominous feeling that assailed me when I first heard her come in is still with me, so strong that it holds me in place before her, but she isn't a threat to me. I don't know how, but this is clear to me.

I bow politely to her, despite the feeling that emanates from her, and I am about to introduce myself when she suddenly taps my shoulder, at which I raise my head to address this with a silent question. What does she want?

Without warning, I'm pushed back into a standing position when she thrusts into my face a green screen, her movements excited and jerky. Although her movements are interesting, this is not the thing that brings the confusion to my mind; rather, it's the text on the screen.

_**That's not necessary. I already know you.**_

I stare at the text for a moment before turning my grey eyes back onto her, my eyebrows coming together in a deep frown. What is she talking about?

"How?" I ask her hesitantly, and I see Shinra-san give her a similarly confused look.

Now she pulls the screen back and types something else on it. I see an epiphany cross Shinra's face when he sees what she's typing, and he slams a fist into the palm of his other hand, his eyes going wide with a strange excitement.

"Oh, that's right!" he cries out, "I remember that!" His face changes now to a sort of dark amusement, with a side of perviness that comes in a much smaller dose. "It was the night you came back and you were so depressed." When the woman turns her head toward him in what I assume is annoyance, he shrugs as if he just did something to be modest about, and closes his eyes in a comfortable smile. "It's a gift."

Meanwhile, I have become completely lost.

Then, turning back to me, Celty-san pushes the screen back in my face so I can read it again, and I swear I almost go into cardiac arrest at what it says.

_**The night that you were evicted. Do you remember?**_

You've got to be kidding me...

My eyes go wide as I look up at her again, and I honestly don't know whether to laugh or cry right now... but then I remember the note, and those two notions fall right out of the back of my mind.

"It was you..." I hear myself breathe in awe, remembering the note that I found when I woke up that morning. It makes sense now! That's where I've heard her name before. Wait, then that means... no. That can't be right. I remember the words in the note, the mention of another witness to my distress. "Wait," I redirect my thoughts, though I'm still talking to Celty-san. "In the note you said that someone told you about me. Who was it?"

She hesitates after this. It's clear - a clear hesitation, like she's going to tell me the truth, or is at least thinking about it, but then she hesitates. She hesitates! Ugh, so even mute people can lie! Then, she pulls the screen back and a few seconds later puts it back in my face, showing me the words, _**I don't know.**_

Of course she doesn't.

I sigh here and look at Shinra-san, who looks back at me, and then at Celty, who does the same thing. When I see her helmet move, though, there's something about it that just doesn't seem right to me. It's eerie, but I'm not entirely sure as to why. Maybe I'm just thinking of the rumours, of the way that people always misjudge this person and call her headless, rather than saying what she really is - which is mute. No, which _must_ be mute. Really, even Izaya says that she's headless, and he's probably the least ignorant person I know in Ikebukuro! Maybe he's just trying to trick me most of the time, or gross me out or something, saying that Celty-san is a headless fairy who still moves and kills people in the dead of night. Freaky... in that case, a Dullahan is standing right in front of me, and I have no idea, but I'm sure it must be something else. I'm sure she has a head, and people just misconstrue her silence for a lack of one... although I guess I do see where they get confused. The fact that I can't see her eyes past her visor disturbs me slightly, because even behind visors like these I can normally see peoples' faces, but behind her mask is something else entirely. It looks like swirling black smoke that's just going around and around and around, always moving, never stopping. So it makes me wonder... is it true?

I guess she notices me staring, because in the next few seconds she's typing on her little keypad again, and when she lets me see it again, I'm surprised when she doesn't seem to treat this as a delicate situation at all - it's almost like she's done this a million times before. Actually, she probably has.

_**Are you curious?**_ she asks me, _**Do you want to see if I have a head or not?**_

Stunned, for a moment I just stand there, trying to take this in. My eyes go to Shinra-san, whose grin has gone from excited to childishly excited, which - I think - entails double the excitement of a twenty-four-year-old man. He's acting like he's never seen Celty with her helmet off, or maybe he has and he's just excited that I'm going to see the mystery behind her dark and impenetrable visor. Suddenly, I feel this has turned into a somewhat awkward situation.

"Yes!" Shinra-san blurts for me all of a sudden, and my eyes are immediately dragged back to him. "Yes, she most definitely wants to see what's under that helmet!" He dances around so that he's in front of Celty-san now, and beside me, his arms waving around madly as he expresses just how excited he is. I'm forced to duck to avoid a few blows from his waving arms, almost enough so that I start to feel like I'm being targeted, and move away about five feet.

At his newest outburst of childish excitement, I manage to catch just the slightest glimpse of the words that Celty-san now pushes into Shinra-san's face, her body language suggesting annoyance as she does, with one hand on her hip and the other outstretched to show him the newest message, one shoulder pushed back slightly, which forces the other side to be more exposed to Shinra-san and me.

Is it just me, or did that screen just say, _**Don't be a pervert**_?

Whatever. It's not important, I guess... but when she turns back to me, I can tell by her serious posture that she is about to reveal to me the secret behind the visor.

When she lifts the helmet, it's like opening the door to a room filled with black steam, as it all comes pouring out - the swirling, shimmering black smoke that has the same effect as the suit, like a shadow, a wispy, swirling, soaring shadow. The way it moves in the air is so beautiful to me that I almost want to reach out and touch it, but I refrain because I don't want to ruin it. I don't want to be the disturbance that stops the dance that the lovely black smoke has waited so long in that helmet to perform.

It's when the smoke finishes its beautiful dance and clears, that I see what's really been behind that visor this entire time, and my eyes widen in horror and simultaneous awe.

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**Hahahaha! Cliffy! That's for... something! I don't know what you did to deserve this, but you must have done something... or maybe I'm just a bully. Oh well. Muahahahaha!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Ah, love~

It's such a complicated emotion - one that I've never understood - and yet I'm feeling it right now for a girl for whom I've mixed business with pleasure. Really, there's no denying it. The first time I realized this, I think, was when I found her drunk in an alley, and she summarized me off the top of her deranged head.

Oh, how fun! She's become a vine, wrapping herself around me – weaving her current life around the man who tore it all apart. It only takes one strike for a vine to suddenly fall to the ground and wither into nothing, although it may seem strong while it's winding itself around this… wall. I feel the soft murmur of a chuckle pressing against my throat at the thought of my Shio-chan being utterly destroyed if I was to leave her. With her hard eyes and outer shell of anger and hostility, it seems almost impudent that one would even consider thinking of her as "weak," but to be honest – those are usually the most vulnerable vines to be cut.

What a fragile creature…

I lean back in my chair now and tilt my head back, looking over to the clock. Tomorrow morning... that's when I can see her again. Slowly, a subtle smirk plays over my lips, pulling the corners up into a sort of grimace.

I've never had a person affect me like this before. I've been excited to see people before, but all of that is usually so that I can analyze them; so that I can see their reactions. With her, I think I simply enjoy her company. When I see her, my heart skips and the tips of my fingers sometimes even go numb, like I'm somehow nervous about being around her… but that doesn't seem like me at all. It's very strange. In this business I've heard people describe their love for one another in a similar way… I suppose it's my turn now to remember that I'm just as human as they are.

"Ahahaha~~ how amusing!" I spin around in my chair, lifting my head from where it was resting over the back, and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Using my feet to push me, I pull myself toward the window and lean forward eagerly. My head drops to my chest as the laugh threatens to consume me, my fingers tightening on the arms of my chair as the air in my chest heaves with gasps and wheezes. I've become one my own puppets!

As a little _blip _sounds out behind me, my body instantly straightens up. I lift my head and air out my lungs, so that the laughter stops, although the cheerful mood is staying for awhile. With the last bit of air in my lungs, a heavy sigh bolts the air out of my mouth as I spin around once more, going over to my computer to see that my little chat with Tarou-kun is going well. Somehow we've gotten on the topic of Shiori, and before I know it, I'm asking questions. I want to know more about her life.

He says that there are rumours going around at school about her - that she tried to kill Hanako - _that she's going crazy_; the reason that she's not there is because _she was arrested and killed, but the authorities don't want anyone to know this because it'll ruin their image_.

This is fun… actually, I want to tell him that I know she's safe, that I know where she is right now, just to set him off. I want to imagine his grateful sigh in my head, and imagine those big, innocent blue eyes bloat so wide.

I can't resist.

_None of that is true,_ I type quickly on the smooth, familiar keyboard. _She's fine. I know where she is._

Here it is: the pause for a dramatic moment, for something to click in that young man's brain. A grin etches itself across my face – how could I resist? I suppose all humans must brag about their lovers, even indirectly.

_That's good to hear,_ is his delayed response. _My friend is worried about her._

His friend... I wonder, is this Kida Masaomi going to be a challenge for me? Perhaps even a rival in love? Either way, he's not allowed to have her. That's really all I can think when it comes to him. Lately, I think I've even started to hate him, solely because of my suspicions.

Ha-ha! Anger is a strange thing, but possibly one of the most unreasonable emotions that I've seen in people. Fueled by a multitude of things from loss to simply being wronged in the smallest of ways. It's one of the most common emotions to deal with in a business like mine. People want dirt on others, not because they love them, but because they've been wronged or it's someone they hate.

I wonder if this is what jealousy is like… feeling a sense of possession toward my Shio-chan, saying that no one else is allowed to have her. Is that it? I've never experienced this before, so it's confusing. Oh, but so much fun! I can feel the anger getting the better of me, and plots of mischief and destruction are all I can think of for him.

This must be the real thing: jealousy.

I suppose it was stupid to get involved with her, but I can't regret it now – we're already too far into this twisted plot. Of course, I wonder if I should be allowed to endure this worry for the future; I know that my constant contact with her will only end up with her getting hurt… and this ache in my small, black heart tells me that some day she probably won't even want me around. If I hadn't bothered telling her what I did about Namie, she still wouldn't be safe, but what would I care? Truthfully, I don't think she deserves this now. It's like she's in constant pain, and with me in her life it's only going to get worse.

How ironic. I'm in love with the girl I was asked to protect so many years ago.

I asked her something today: _"What's so different about you?"_ Of course, the only difference if, of course, my bias toward her.

"Hahahaha..."

_Click._

I look over to my colleague, who has just entered the room to see me laughing quietly at something that she doesn't understand, at which she raises an eyebrow, but doesn't question. Seems I'm always doing this. "Anything new on Ishikawa?"

"Yep," I answer with a mild inward laugh. Lovely... another conversation about my dear Shio-chan as I spin in my chair to face her, closing the window with Tarou – without responding to him – for a moment to give it fully to Namie. "She's missing from school... and there are rumours going around."

"Does this have anything to do with what was on the news?"

"It might," I tell her causually, "It makes sense that it would. Either way, though, it looks like your pills are taking effect." Another small giggle escapes from my throat. "Good job, Namie."

A cold stare finds its way toward me. "That doesn't change the fact that I can't find her."

"True," I say, suddenly finding that my mood has improved greatly at her distress. I don't say anything after that, though, because to be honest, right now I just feel like laughing at her more than anything. What I find to be really ironic lately is that everything either of us has done lately has been about Shio-chan, but on completely different levels: she's looking for her to kill her; I'm hiding her to save her. Namie hates her. I love her.

As I look down at the object that I'm twiddling between my fingers under my desk, I see an inscription on the back of it that I've seen a million times before, and I smile at it.

_Shio-chan_, it reads, _Be safe_.

It's a gold heart-shaped locket, which obviously hasn't been opened for awhile. I wonder for a moment what Namie would do if she ever saw the inscription, or just the locket itself, but I push that thought aside when I remember how dangerous it would be. Then again, maybe I shouldn't even think about risking it, especially considering what's inside.

With a deep yawn, my arms stretch back behind my head and my neck tries to follow, but can only go so far. It's dark outside – a moonless night. It looks perfect for a midnight stroll.

Clutching the locket tightly in my fist, I shove it into my coat pocket before standing to face my co-worker. When she hears the bustling of material from my area of the room she looks up from her magazine – which she only just grabbed – and gives me a subtle, questioning glare. "Where are you going?"

"I'm sleeping at my apartment tonight," I explain with a broad smile. "See you tomorrow." As I head toward the door I see the woman stand up and go toward the second level of my office, grabbing some books from the many, many shelves that reside up there.

"OK," she allows me, "I'll be here all night."

"Yep."

As I walk out with another long stretch, I dart my eyes back to her just before the door closes. She doesn't seem suspicious, so maybe I'll go visit some people.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

It was beautiful – wonderful. I don't know how many times I want to picture that in my mind – the coiling smoke that rose out of her slender neck, like a curtain blowing in the wind. It swerved in the air like nothing I've ever seen before, and now… even after running my fingers through it – and feeling nothing – I'm still in such awe. It was like something right out of a nightmare, but this nightmare wasn't a nightmare at all. It was clear from the first moment that I saw her, even with her helmet on, that she wasn't human, but that… seeing her open neck like that.

Even now, as I'm laying in the bed that Shinra and Celty set up for me and looking up at my hand's slender silhouette against the light of the moon outside, I can't help but imagine that I'm touching that shadow again, wiggling my fingers excitedly through it and brushing it delicately toward me, while a giddy laugh escapes from deep within my chest.

This couple is just like my parents – although I admit that Shinra is much more energetic and, well, flamboyant than my father – Celty is just like my mother was. She was kind, caring, and always there for those who needed her, just like Celty is. My father was always joking around like Shinra, always flirting with my mom at the supper table – rather indiscriminately. Ha… one thing that both of them definitely have in common is that neither of them hold back when it comes to the one they love.

It's obvious, even though they didn't say one thing about the two of them being _together_ that they are. It's sweet, almost… but it makes me think. It makes me think about past boyfriends, and about how an ideal man is supposed to treat a woman. I don't think I've ever dated a guy who actually understood me, or even considered treating me like a lady. I can't say they treated me badly, but not one harbored any respect.

At the last words of that brief thought I lower my hand a few centimeters, letting it slowly curl above me so that my fingers look like they're holding something… a hand, maybe? I like to think it's a hand.

My fingers curled around his, our fingers interlocked with one another. He's standing over me – this faceless man – with love in his eyes as he looks at me. Ah, but that's a fairy tale, isn't it? That's what every girl wants – a knight in shining armor to protect her from other men, to show that he loves her with even the smallest gesture. Every girl wants a man that can provide for her and take care of her…

With that thought, I'm automatically reminded of Izaya – the man who took me into his home when I had nowhere to go and hid me from this woman, Yagiri Namie. His brown eyes are always staring at me, though it usually it feels more like he's looking through me. He can see into every crevice and behind every locked door that I have in my mind. He knows exactly how to get to me, how to make me feel like I'm the only person in the world, and then he figures out how to humiliate me with grandeur and style.

The way he always comes so close to me reminds me sometimes of a lover of some sort, like he's trying to get close to me… but he's just playing with me in the end. It's obvious that someone like him can't have any feelings for – no. It's more like someone like him can't have any feelings _like that_.

I roll over in my futon so that I'm on my stomach now, my toes dangling over the end and my arms bent under the pillow beneath my head. I've buried my face, so that I can groan freely without either of my newest hosts hearing me. With my voice muffled, my body sprawled out on the futon, wrapped messily in the blanket that covers me, and my hands pressing the pillow far enough into my face to suffocate me, I continue with these horrible, confusing thoughts. Why am I even thinking about him?

**XXX**

The next morning I wake up to a strong scent of rice being cooked down the hall. Keeping my eyes closed, I let my tired nostrils flare freely, taking in the scent of the food being cooked for me in the kitchen. It's silent outside the shoji screen, blocking off my borrowed room from the rest of the apartment. A sigh is pulled from my slightly parted lips, a pink flush touching my cheeks as my eyes open and I take in my surroundings once again.

I've been in so many different places to sleep in the last month or so that I've gotten used to waking up on unfamiliar beds, benches, etc. Right now, though, I think I've been the most comfortable I've been since living with my parents.

I know where I am, but the scent of a freshly-cooked breakfast is nothing but nostalgic for me, it seems. It calms my spirit for the first time in two years – or more – and I find myself just laying there, thinking of all the things that my mother used to make. Breakfast would be simple: rice, maybe some sushi. Lunch would have a variety of things from carrots to squid, and sometimes some sushi in there too. Supper would always be a surprise: curry, yakisoba, ramen… sometimes we went out to eat, too, so we always had a variety for supper.

"Mmm…" I hear my stomach and lungs groan in unison for this memory – for the three of us to sit around a table and, though we would sometimes have silent nights, where no one would talk, we would have long conversations about our days. At least, my parents would, while I usually just gave one-word answers to every question they asked.

I miss them, though I think today will be new. Although it is nostalgic living here, as I found out so quickly last night, it's not with my parents. I'm living with two people who don't even know me that well, and whom I have only met once so far.

I can't help it now, but to imagine what it would be like to sit around the table with just one other person sitting opposite from me, his sickly grin stretched across his face from cheek to cheek, dark eyes glinting in amusement.

"Izaya…" My lips spout his name quietly, and with that I feel a strange pull in the depths of my heart as his face erupts in the front of my mind. "Izaya Orihara…" It's strange, isn't it? It's strange how one person can turn my world so upside down – how I can despise him so much, and yet every time I see him, even when we first met, I relish in the feeling of relief he gives me.

It's almost like I… what's the word? Should I say—

"Shiori-chan?"

"Eh?" The sudden voice props me up out from the under the warm covers of my futon, throwing my hair in a reckless storm around my head as I turn to face the man standing there. He has wild brown hair and sparkling eyes that shout for joy in the midst of nothing at all that would cause him to be excited. "Sh-Shinra-san…" I hear myself mutter as I pull the covers up again, as if thinking that he would see anything through my flannel pyjamas.

The warm eyes close, making room for an even wider smile as he salutes me with two fingers from his forehead. "Ohayou!" he greets me rather loudly before laughing and turning away from me. "Celty! She's up!" Without another word, the man darts from the entrance to "my" bedroom.

All I can do is stare after him. "Ehh… yeah," I mutter before lying down again, totally turned off by this sudden morning greeting, and yank my covers over my head. "Liar," I mumble grumpily.

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**I figure I should grace you with another chapter as soon as possible, seeing as how long I was away~~ Gotta go now, darlings, so I hope you enjoy this one, and another one will likely be coming tomorrow~~ **

**Wootwoot!**

** ~STupIdWiNsAGaIn~**


	23. Chapter 23

****I don't own anything of Durarara~ ^^;**

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CHAPTER 23

When I finally head out to have some breakfast, only a few minutes after my refusal to do so, I see that the two of them are already eating. I head toward the table, slowly moving one foot in front of the other as though I'm not really sure of where I'm going.

Even from a distance I find myself in utter awe at Celty's headless body, the soft smoke rising slowly in curls from the opening. It's still as beautiful as ever – that dark air around her, despite her casual motions and the way she sweeps her fingers so quickly over the keyboard on her phone.

This place is so unfamiliar to me… I don't know what it is, but it just feels so strange to be here. I feel like I should know them because Izaya knows them, but what kind of relationship do they have? They don't seem to like him, but it doesn't look like he feels the same way toward them… but, of course. He would never feel hatred toward another person aside from Heiwajima Shizuo.

I watch as Shinra's eyes travel from Celty to me and he laughs with a loud voice, standing to greet me on the first morning of my uneasy future with these two.

"Ah, Shiori-chan!" he cries, spreading his arms wide. "Good morning! Have some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"Eh…" I take a step toward the table, the scent of food drawing me nearer to them. "Yeah… really," is all I can think to say to them. I watch as Celty shuffles over silently, not even the sound of her clothes against the chair under her making the slightest whisper. While I'm making myself comfortable next to her the woman leans on the table, her forearm taking on most of her upper body weight as she turns to face me. The rustling of my clothes seems to be the only sound for a few seconds until I suddenly hear the repetitive clicking sounds of her fingers on her phone.

When I look over she already has it hovering in front of my eyes, the words black on a bright green screen. When I see that I almost expect it to be a huge, dramatic statement, simply because of the contrast of the bright background and dark letters, but it's a simple sentence: _**Did you have a good sleep?**_

"Yeah," is my immediate reply, a smile stretching the corners of my lips slightly. I haven't had anyone ask me that in a long time… pretty much since my parents died.

"Hey, Shiori-chan!" The voice inspires a jolt through my spine, making me sit up a little straighter and stare right ahead of me, where Shinra has been keeping his eyes on me since I entered the room. "How do you feel about breakfast?"

"Eh… pretty good," I answer, though a little shakily when I hear a low, rumbling sound from my gut just as the thought enters my mind. A light blush crosses my cheeks as my arms curl almost protectively around my midriff, my grey eyes straying from the table and those around it. Although it's right about now that I remember what I forgot to do yesterday: "Ah, right – I didn't eat much yesterday."

"Oh?" Shinra asks mock politely. "So you skipped supper and didn't tell us at all?"

"Eh…"

Before I can completely expel the remainder of that comment from my mind, however, my eyes are torn back purely by reflex as something smooth, white, and round is shoved in front of my face. Instantly, my back straightens and my shoulders are pulled back, encouraging my head to go with them, but my mouth begins to water as soon as I see what's been put in front of me.

A perfectly yellow omelet has been rolled into a smooth cylinder on the plate, cut into pieces that resemble sushi more than anything. Beside it is a bowl of freshly-cooked rice and a pair of chopsticks lay overtop of the bowl. They're lying neatly together over the rim of the bowl, the steam from the rice swirling up around and between them, strongly reminding me of the soft, black curls of smoke that constantly rise from Celty's open neck.

It's beautiful. I don't think I've seen any breakfast like this since my parents died, seeing as I don't usually bother to make anything too extravagant for myself. Then again, the fact that I think simple rice and an omelet are stupendous to begin with might be a sign that I just need to eat more. It's a simple breakfast, so what is it that sends this delight fluttering through my chest, stinging the back of my eyes with a feeling so genuine that it brings water out from beneath my sockets.

_I think…_

"Ita…"

_I haven't had anything…_

"Daki…"

_Cooked by another person…_

"Masu!"

_For _far_ too long._

As soon as the word is out of my mouth I find that I suddenly lose control entirely of my limbs and joints: my fingers rope around the chopsticks while my left hand grasps the bowl as though the rice is my very life, which I am trying to get back, and I do nothing more or less than shovel it in between my wide open lips.

I have to finish it! I have to! If I don't, what will these two people think of me? If I don't finish it, I can't get another helping! I want to eat it while the rice is still hot, but I find myself switching constantly between the rice and omelet, grabbing pieces and shoving them into my cheeks like a squirrel, as if thinking I won't get any more food until next year.

"O-Oi!" Shinra's voice shoots through the air toward me, his light laughter at my ravenous appetite only lifting my eyes for a moment before I go back to devouring this delicious dish.

Celty is watching me from the side, her body giving me the exact same message that Shinra is trying to portray through rather weak tactics. The headless woman's shoulders are slouched forward, her arms – with elbows – on the table, cell phone in hand. Those dark swirls of smoke are watching me eat with something that I can only presume is between fascination and disgust.

"You don't have to eat so fast, Shiori-chan! Slow down!" Shinra-san is waving his hands in a panic, as if flagging me down. _Come back to earth_, he's trying to say, but I don't care – I'm almost done the last bite anyway.

Then, with one last meeting of the chopsticks to the rice, it's done. It's over, and my stomach… Ah, my stomach is… what's the word? Full? Satisfied? Usually I would say that those are two different things, but at this very moment I think they're synonymous.

"Gochisousama deshita," I sigh now as I lean back so that my head hangs over the back of my chair. There's a moment of silence following my feat, but I don't even notice it until just a few moments later, when I hear a soft clicking next to me.

When I finally decide to lift my head again I see Celty's hand in front of me, clutching her green screen with black letters in front of me. When my eyes encounter the small rectangle before them, they register a question.

_**Are you still hungry?**_

Again and again this seems to happen, but now a light pink colour embraces my face, sending yet another wave of heat to my head.

"Ah, no… thank you…" I muster. Oh, I wonder if I should have eaten that fast… I lower my head now, letting a sigh crawl out from between my lips after it makes its way so silently up from my lungs. Still the blush stays, clinging to my cheeks, but it seems that the embarrassment of only a moment ago has subsided somewhat.

More clicking, and I turn my head once again to see Celty directing her phone toward me once more. _**I'm sorry we didn't give you anything last night. I don't eat and I guess Shinra already had something before you came, so it didn't cross either of our minds.**_

"Ah, no, it's—"

"She's fine!" Shinra cuts me off with a huge grin taking hold of his cheerful face once again, rather than it being put in a state of confusion or horror as it was only moments ago. "She doesn't want anymore – right?"

"Yeah," I agree without much thought. "Thanks, though. I haven't had food made by someone else since… eh…" I bring my hand up to touch my chin, curling my fingers around my lips like I do sometimes when I'm thinking, and – weirdly enough – I remember Kida's house and his parents. I had supper there… actually, does that count? I_ made_ my own supper there, with Kida Masaomi himself. "A while ago," I confirm after a few moments.

"Yeah, it gets to be like that when you live on your own," Shinra agrees with me light-heartedly. "My father always used to cook for me until I moved out. Hahaha~ he's terrible at it!"

I turn my head at a tap on my shoulder to see that Celty is holding yet another message out to me. I really have to get used to this thing she does to communicate – I don't think I've ever had to talk with someone like this before. She tilts the screen toward me more, so that it's strictly between us with no interference from the man sitting on the other side of the table. It's almost like we're passing notes.

I feel a bubble forming in my throat as a nostalgic feeling passes over me at this. I remember sitting in class, passing notes with Hanamura Yuki, who sat right beside me in English class. We would sneak notes to each other underhandedly, brushing each others' fingers as we did because we didn't even dare to look at each other, lest we be found out by the teacher. Some were jokes, others serious conversations, and yet others were plans to go to each others' houses after school, or to confess to a boy after class.

The small giggle is pushed up from my throat now as I reminisce in my head, coupled with what Celty shows me on her screen.

_**If I could, even I wouldn't eat it. Usually it's unidentifiable – just a clump of strange colours mixed together.**_

"Eugh," I comment, though the giddy feeling is still there in my chest, unmoving from that sweet spot where it resides. That's where I want to keep it, but I have to wonder: how long can it possibly last? "That sounds disgusting, haha."

I never thought I would remember so much while being with these two. At first they reminded me of my parents, just due to their demeanor toward each other, but now it's more like they're friends to me. It hasn't even been a whole day – not even half a day – but I feel close to Celty. I want to get to know her and Shinra-san more. I want to spend more time with them – to see them for who they really are, but mostly… what is it?

Yeah, I think I know what I want.

I want to experience life again. I want a normal life, where I can get a job and go to school, and just hang out with friends all day. For the last two years that has been out of my reach – even to just _talk_ to someone about anything, or to look them in the eye without feeling shame for something that I can't control.

I jump when I hear something next to me and, brought out of my trance, I watch as Celty practically throws herself over the table at Shinra, holding the bright green screen up once she's done typing.

"Ah!" Shinra jumps up from his own seat now, his eyes going to the clock as his chair shoots out from under him. With a quick glance at me he announces, "Sorry, Shiori-chan, but I have to go to work. I'm almost late!"

"Eh, that's—"

He's charging across the kitchen and into the hall before I can finish my sentence, and with a wind like no other he grabs what looks like a white lab coat, and dashes out the door.

"A sudden departure," I hear myself comment under my breath as Celty comes to sit down beside me again, clearing the apparently urgent message from her screen. "What time is it, anyway?"

Again, the woman holds up her cell phone to give me yet another message. _**Almost ten o'clock.**_

"Ah…" Staring at the bright green display before me for a few more moments, I listen to my mind wander with an eagerness that I haven't felt for, although it's surprising, a very small amount of time.

Has it been a day or a year since I last saw Izaya?

My head bobs for a moment before I let it drop so that my chin is pointed down toward my chest, my eyes closed as a deep sigh manages to squeeze out of my lungs.

"When did he say he was coming back?" I wonder aloud, though it seems that I've forgotten that Celty can hear me, whether she can speak or not. I hear her clicking again, and it doesn't take long after her fingers dash across that keyboard one more time for her to finish.

_**I don't know, but his hours are usually fairly long.**_

"What?"

She pulls back on the phone when I question her, turning it to face her black smoke, which I can't help but let my eyes stray toward. When she sees that nothing is wrong with the spelling or the words themselves, though, she turns it back to me to show me again.

"I know what it says," I assure her, "I just don't think we're talking about the same—eugh." I drop my head again, pulling my eyes back to the floor and away from that gorgeous, curling haze once more. "Nevermind."

I don't even know why I bother thinking about him. Izaya is the man who got me arrested by setting me down on a park bench out in the open. He's also the one who scared me to death the first night I was staying at his apartment. He's _also_ the man who has humiliated me and hurt me many, many times and – more recently – pawned me off when he decided he couldn't handle me anymore. Then, of course, there's the fact that he works closely with Namie and pawned me off into the hands of someone with a similar circumstance.

Of course, this only occurs to me now, but I guess it's kind of ironic. Both Izaya and Shinra, for a while at least, have been harboring secrets in their own homes.

_**Oh, I see.**_

"Huh?"

When I look up I see Celty typing away excitedly on her keyboard, her shoulders shaking with the amusement that clearly racks her body. When she thrusts the cell phone back toward my confused, narrowed eyes, I can only draw back at what I see.

_**Are you waiting for Izaya-san?**_

"Eh?" I demand, my chest tightening for only an instant before I'm able to comprehend what she just asked me. "Yeah…" I mutter in response, "He's bringing my stuff."

There's a pause between us, with Celty as silent as ever while I try not to stare at the thin wisps of ebony smoke that swirl up out from her open neck. She types something else, but I'm not sure what it is until she once again thrusts it into my field of vision.

It doesn't take even one second for the blood to rush to my face when I see the next question she is asking me, and I wonder for a moment if I can even answer it. For a single moment my breath catches in my throat, rendering me defenseless for that amount of time against this attack, but soon I'm able to recoil just enough to acquire a look of utter terror on my face.

_**Shiori-san**_, she asks me, _**Do you love him?**_

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**Yeah, I can't guarantee the quality of this chapter, seeing as it's 3:00 AM here right now... A augh, why did I stay up so late? I just really, _really_ wanted to get this chapter up tonight, and will likely edit it tomorrow. Tell me if you like it, and I'll see if I can spare the energy. xDD Hope you enjoy~**

**~STupIdWiNsAGaIn~**


	24. UPDATE: REVISED

Hey guys/girls/general readers! I just wanted to let you know that YES! I WILL BE CONTINUING THIS! Also... I'M ALIIIIIIIIIVE! Be happy! Celebrate! I will try to get this next chapter in to you in the next week or so! Yes, I actually have a goal to FINISH THIS PIECE OF AWESOME now! Yay!

Wait for me, my loves (even though you've been waiting for, like, how many years already?). I will surely come through with this story! I promise! If you give up hope, I will definitely scream or something dramatic like that.

Also! I am still considering rewriting the story, but not until I am done this version of it - at least that's my decision for now. I admit that my writing style has changed a bit since we've last met, but I will try to replicate this story's style as much as I can. I love you all! I miss you!

****EDIT: ok, scratch that. Scratch all of it. I feel that if I am unable to read through it, I can't continue it. I will be starting again from scratch - this will include a more developed plot and characters, as well as a perfectly in-character Izaya (by which I mean, I will try). I will start on that this week, and the first chapter will be up on Friday.**


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